


Broken Things and Homecomings

by Daisyapples



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, M/M, PTSD, Ronan Lynch is Bad at Feelings, Slow Burn, Solider Ronan, Therapy, adam parish is bad at feelings, alternative universe, pynch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-05-18 05:34:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 94,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14846760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisyapples/pseuds/Daisyapples
Summary: Ronan Lynch has just returned from war; hot deserts, gunfire and bad memories. He's not sleeping or eating and the only thing keeping him functioning is his army buddy Noah.Adam Parrish got out. He got out of Henrietta, and then he got dragged back in by his dad's funeral and his mom's illness. Now he's back at Boyds trying to figure out how his electrical engineering masters ended with him becoming a mechanic.





	1. It's not really home anymore, is it?

**Author's Note:**

> First time trying to write fanfiction and it's mostly about trying to figure out characters with PTSD. Also the different types of homecomings people can have, some grateful and some not so much. It's not a love fixes you kind of fic. It's a you fix yourself and learn you are worth something while also finding someone who understands the noise in your head. 
> 
> It might be terrible and off character. Also I am not American. My army knowledge is based off the news and movies. Apologies if I get anything wrong. 
> 
> Any feedback or kudos or whatever is much appreciated you wonderful people.

The truck moved under Ronan, soothing the part that hated being still. He laced his fingers around the five leather bands on his wrist. Sunlight through leaves brightened the darkness under his eyelids. He wasn't asleep. He wasn't asleep. He wasn't asleep. 

He was just dreaming.

Noah sat beside him on an army cot, “Once we get out of here, you better take me to the mystical Barns.” 

“I don't break my promises, dude.” It was said with a grin. Ronan knew Noah was just trying to drag him out of his homesickness. Reminding him they were both getting out of this alive. They were both going home. 

A nudge of his shoulder had him bolting awake, reaching for a gun that wasn't there. 

“Hey, sorry son. Just wanted to let you know we're here.” 

Henrietta glistened in the hazy mid-afternoon heat. Cicadas sang in the distance. Raven boys drove past in too big cars. Nino’s was somewhere out there. Monmouth Manufacturing. Gansey. Matthew. Declan even. Along with long miles of empty road waiting to be destroyed by rubber and speed. 

“You can drop me here,” Ronan grunted. 

“You sure?” The man who'd picked him up was at least three stone overweight and smelt like he hadn't showered in a month. “I don't mind dropping you all the way.” 

Ronan considered for a minute before giving a curt nod. Beat walking in the heat. He pointed down the Main Street, giving directions with hand gestures and grunts. Now he was so close he couldn't stop the old parts of him from taking over. Words were not his friends. 

They stopped about five minutes from The Barns. This he needed to do without an audience. Something vibrated under his skin; some indefinable emotion. 

“Thanks, man,” he managed, climbing from the truck. 

“Anything for our troops. Thanks for your service.”

Back to the man, Ronan flinched. He nodded once, and walked away without looking back. There was nothing about his service he deserved to be thanked for. 

Leaves fluttered overhead in a breeze he couldn't feel. The heat was a dead thing that reminded him of deserts and gunfire. He stopped at the top of the driveway, dropping his canvas sack and staring. He wasn't crying. He wasn't crying. He wasn't crying. It was just sweat pouring from his eyes. 

Maybe he should have changed out of the combats he'd arrived home in, but the only thing he wanted then was to be off the army base as soon as possible. Hitchhiking across country has given him a few days to clear his head. There was a strong possibility the smell in the truck belonged to him as well. He hadn't slept in three days. Had walked, hiked, hitched and begged to get here. 

The Barns was exactly as he remembered it. 

It shone in the daylight, a living thing welcoming him home. This was why he wanted to do this alone. This was why no one knew he was back. This moment of finally being here. Safe. He dropped to his knees, a cloud of dust rising around him. The sleek charcoal of his BMW practically waved to him. He knew Matthew or Gansey had been driving it as often as they could from their letters. 

The grass in the fields was well trimmed by the cattle and his hired farmhands. The barns stood proud in his peripheral vision. Wind skimmed his shaved head. The smell of hay, shit and flowers reached him. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed damp palms along the rough material of his trousers. 

It was dusty and hot and home. 

Ronan was finally home.


	2. Please take a minute to notice your nearest exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is an AU where Adam never met Gansey and Ronan. They all went to the same school, but just never hung out etc... Also Adam is sad and suffering so sorry about that. Recovery is all about one step forward six steps back, so he did make progress and then he got dragged back in. Also the chapters will get longer, I'm just easing myself into the world :)
> 
> Anyway. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> And thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments! Made me embarrassingly happy!

When his alarm went off, Adam was pulled from dreams of whispering trees and warm, dry leaves under his resting body. He was pulled from the heavy smell of summer coated with a cool breeze and freshly falling rain. He was pulled from warm arms and a laugh that made him ache. He didn't know who owned the laugh but he wished he did. 

The alarm screeched through the small room again and Adam ignored the fact that he wanted to cry. He hated waking up, never feeling like he had enough sleep. He never felt like he had anything to look forward to.

Maybe he should take up a hobby. 

The noise echoed so he finally turned over, slamming his hand down on his phone. The four walls of his tiny room always seemed smaller in the morning, more claustrophobic. 

He lay on the mattress, missing his dorm room and his friends and learning. God, he missed learning. Ten years of his life spent trying to pull himself out of this shithole and still he ended up exactly where he started. The snooze went off again.

“On the count of five, you're getting up. One, two, three…” With a huff he threw the bedclothes back. “I fucking hate my life,” he muttered. A morning ritual he did while he watched everything he worked for burn to the ground. He switched off the snooze button. The silence made him feel momentarily deaf in both ears. 

By the time he'd showered and gotten dressed, eaten some generic breakfast bar and swallowed half a cup of cold coffee, he felt less like he was going to murder everyone and more like he was probably only going to murder himself. 

The drive to Boyd's was too short.

The man himself had retired six months ago, allowing Adam to take over as manager. The upside meant he didn't need more than one job because he was on manager wages but the bigger bonus was the health insurance, for him and his family. The downside was Aglionby, and Harvard for undergrad, and Yale for his master's was a waste of time. All the money he owed and he was back in Boyd's. Adam pushed the regret down, some place deep in his bones and went to work. 

Later, after another day had slipped by with nothing but oil changes and dysfunctional spark plugs, Adam went to see his mother. The home she was in was eating up half of Adams paycheck but at least that cost had a limited timeline. He easily ignored the guilt following the thought. It wasn't like she'd been there for him. Ever. Not once. 

He sometimes still wondered how she'd managed to manipulate him into staying. He still wasn’t sure how she’d convinced him to pay for her treatments by moving back to the state and getting a job with health insurance. Not just back to the state but back to Henrietta. He'd come so far and it was all slipping away a little bit more every time he went to visit her. 

“Adam, you came,” she croaked when he walked into the dimly lit room. Light had started hurting her eyes the month before. 

The room was small but clean. It had a lot of brightly coloured pillows and crocheted blankets. The walls were caramel with prints of ponds and forests and the sky. It smelled like disinfectant. He never left without a headache. He sat down on the hard backed chair and examined her. She was skinnier and she had less hair than last time. Her lips were cracked so badly, they had little scabs covering them. He swallowed. 

“I said I would, didn't I?” He managed to say it with a smile in his voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, you know, they have me on so many drugs I wouldn't know if I was dying or floating away.” She started laughing which turned into a hacking cough that was hard to listen to. 

He silently handed her a glass of water and started to tell her about his day. 

When he arrived back in St. Agnes three hours later, it was dark and lonely and home. 

Adam regretted ever coming home.


	3. The people who own your heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noah is in this chapter and just a sprinkling of Gansey too! Also this one is slightly longer! Next chapter is going to be a Ronan chapter as well which I'm excited about, and then Adam will finally meet one of our wonderful trio, or maybe Blue. I don't know. I haven't written it yet. 
> 
> Critiques, complaints, compliments- I accept all tenders of feedback *pretend this is a kissy face*

Ronan jumped when the living room door sprang open, muscles locking and hand already reaching for… What? His radio? A gun? The person in the doorway was shadowed for a moment, and then Noah crossed the room, landing heavily beside him on the couch. No one knew he was home. It could only ever have been Noah, his brain supplied in a disjointed and fragmented way between images of soldiers dying around him and someone barking orders to GET DOWN, DAMMIT LYNCH TAKE COVER...He gasped in some air when his vision blackened at the edges. 

“Pass a controller, man.”

“Noah, the fuck you doing here?” He still couldn't quite catch his breath, like a car engine that was turning over but then refusing to start. He took a long inhale through his nose and let it out slowly. The pulse in his neck felt like it wanted to tear itself free from his skin. 

Noah ignored his panic and restarted Mario Kart on a two player game. “Mario Kart, Ronan?”

“Too many guns,” he replied, focusing on forming each word and pointing at a pile of games thrown across the floor. English currently didn't really feel like his first language. He pointed at another pile. “Too many explosions and these are actual army games.” He kicked the last one sending the games skidding across the floor. The ache is his toes grounded him. He was home. He was home. He was home. 

It was just his heart that was still at war. 

“So Mario Kart.” Noah's voice dragged him away from sand and death. 

“Yup.” Ronan took a swing of warm beer, limbs refusing to go and get a cold bottle. “What ya doing here, fuckface?”

“I believe your exact words to me were-” he paused and coughed. When he spoke, he sounded like Ronan. “Man, anytime you want, The Barns is open.” 

The impression was weirdly accurate. He rolled his eyes. 

Noah was staring at him. When he examined him, it felt like he was stealing all Ronan's secrets. “Why are you still in your combats? Dude, you stink.”

Ronan shot him a glare and ignored the question “I thought you'd at least call first.” 

“You called me? Two nights ago?” He sounded amused, leaning forward concentrating on the game Ronan was no longer playing; the controller hanging loosely from his hand. “I mean I know you were drunk, but still.” 

Ronan picked up his phone. Sure enough there was a call made at 3am two nights before. "Shit. Sorry,” he muttered, not looking at him. “That still doesn't explain what you're doing here. What about your family?”

“Better I got out of there. Not the homecoming I wanted.”

“Not a happy affair then?”

Noah gave him an odd look. “Yeah, it wasn't quite what anyone was looking forward to.”

It was weird how quickly they fell into Ronan and Noah again. Few words with little explanation. Always understood. 

“Can I help?” He knew a little about Noah's family, two sisters and actual living, supportive parents. All very activity based and caring. Army rats the whole lot of them. 

“Nah, man I'll figure it out,” he sounded sad though. “PTSD is a bitch, ya know?”

Ronan understood feeling like there was a glass wall between you and the world but he just shrugged a response, not wanting to bond over nightmares and flashbacks and the pulsing fear he couldn't seem to rid from under his skin. Worse was the anticipation of waiting for the next attack. He thought it’d stop when it got home. “Where's your stuff?” He asked, changing the subject. 

“Threw it upstairs already,” Noah responded without looking away from the screen. “Think it was one of your brother's rooms. It was dusty.” 

He threw down the controller when Noah won again. He hadn't really started playing again anyway. “Made yourself at home there, haven't ya?”

“Again, your exact words were…”

Ronan waved away the mocking tone. “So what do you wanna do?”

“Well when you sober up, shower and get out of those damn combats, 'cos dude you really do stink," Noah smirked and Ronan hit him. "Whatever, you do. Anyway, I figured you could take me driving in that big fancy BMW outside.” 

“I'll put some coffee on,” Ronan said, grin like a shark. 

He ignored the relief that someone else was deciding what to do. 

When he got home four days before he'd stalled, unsure what was next. Everytime he tried to call someone, or even leave the safety of The Barns, something in his gut had twisted. He wasn't the person they all remembered. He didn't even know who he was. So he'd stayed, avoiding the farm hands and living in the sitting room. Couldn't seem to function outside beer, food and videogames. Was sleeping on the couch. Hated the combats but the thought of removing them made his chest ache and tighten until he couldn't get any air in at all. Like by being home, he was betraying his regiment. Something about Noah being there had loosened the knot in his gut. It made him feel like himself again. Like maybe he hadn't lost everything in the heat and the noise. Like he wasn't a jigsaw with too many pieces and no image to help with assembly. Noah knew him. Maybe he could guide him back to who he used to be. 

While the coffee was brewing, he had a shower using the last of body wash left over from a lifetime ago. It was only when he got out that he realised it was the first time in four years that he smelt like himself. He rarely used anything but army regulation brand. It was a strange victory but one nonetheless. When he got dressed, black jeans and a ripped vest, he had to sit down after for a few minutes until the shaking passed. 

It was too much like coming home. 

He watched his hands until the trembles in his fingers stopped, waited until his muscles didn't feel like they were trying to rip free of his body. When he stood and examined himself in the mirror, an embarrassingly soft sob escaped. 

It looked like no time at passed at all. 

He was seventeen year old Ronan being sent away because he'd been kicked out of Aglionby and Declan had decided military school was his only option. He was angry and grieving and damaged. Not much had changed then, he thought wryly, proud at least his self awareness had grown with age. The edge of his tattoo was visible over the neck of the vest. Long fingers touched his ribs where his other tattoo sat, the same one every soldier in his regiment had.

He tried to hold his gaze, to look back at himself unashamed, but his blue eyes knew too much. Swallowing, he looked away and went back down to Noah. 

*

Ronan switched from third to fourth gear, foot pressing down on the accelerator as a whoop of joy tore from his throat. 

Noah rolled down the window beside him, leaning his head and let out a long happy cry. “Wooooo.” He pulled his head back in. “Go faster, dude,” he shouted over the roar of the wind. 

Ronan was happy to oblige, taking turns too quickly and skidding around an old tractor barely checking if there was anything coming down the other lane. Noah laughed as the tractor let out a honk of disapproval. 

“You know I can't stay for too long, right?” He said as they slowed, turning into The Barns driveway. 

“I know, man, but you're welcome as long as you want.” 

Noah stepped out of the car and looked around the grounds. “I'd happily stay forever-” he laughed, following him into the house. “-but there are things to do and places to see. And anyway, more importantly, when are you going to tell them you're home?” He asked, eyes scanning the sitting room. 

Empty beer bottles and food containers, a half empty whiskey bottle and spilt coffee gathered across surfaces. The curtains were closed, streams of sunlight breaking in through gaps. The room was shadowy and cold, uninviting. Piles of blankets and pillows were dumped at one end of the couch. The TV was still on the Mario Kart menu. 

Ronan shrugged, refusing to answer. “Food?” 

Noah shook his head, landing heavily on the couch. “I'd say beer but you've clearly drank it all.” 

The grin was sharp and snake-like, a look intent on destruction. “I can always get more.”

“Ring Gansey.” 

“No.”

“Ring Gansey.”

“No.”

“I'll leave if you don't.”

Ronan picked up a bottle of beer and smashed it against the wall. Noah flinched but didn't back down. Grabbing the whiskey, he tossed it at Ronan who caught it one handed, and opening it, took a long gulp. When he was finished, Noah passed him the phone.

“Call him.” 

Taking a shaky breath, Ronan pressed the call button and listened to the dial tone. Noah hummed beside him, reminding him of when they were back in the desert and he would hum himself to sleep. The smell of sand and gunpowder hit his nostrils. He shook his head, feeling grains of sand scratch the palm of his hand when he rubbed over it. 

“Ronan?” Ganseys voice was confused, scared. 

He would never have expected a call from Ronan's cellphone. They'd fallen into a habit of letters. Easier than emails when the internet sometimes went for weeks at a time. Something Ronan could edit to only contain a sterilised and safe version, and something Gansey could pour all the history and pep talks he could manage into. Ronan had never wanted Gansey to know how badly he fell sometimes. Never wanted him to know the horrors he'd seen over there. Mostly he’d written of his friends and the cool guns he got to use, playing football with local kids and helping to rebuild schools. He told him of contraband alcohol and late nights staring at stars that reminded him of home. 

“Ronan?”

The words were there, crawling up his throat and waiting patiently on his tongue. Noah was staring at him. He couldn't think over the pounding in his ears.

“Ronan.” It was an order. Not a question. 

“Hey man, I'm home.”


	4. Scars are never invisible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue has arrived!! Next chapter Adam and Gansey meet! And yes I made Maura, Persephone and Calla therapists because that's kinda of what psychic do anyway; solve people's problems. 
> 
> Thanks for the comments and kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions!! You guys are regularly making my day <3

Ronan sat on the BMW outside of Ninos, chewing his leather bands and cussing Noah out under his breath. “This is something you have to do yourself,” he muttered in an attempted impression. It wasn't as good as Noah's had been of him. “Gansey deserves some time with you.” 

The Henrietta heat lay like a blanket over the town, and he shivered as a bead of sweat slinked down his back. The sun was setting. Gold and pink, red and orange hues splashed across the sky like a painters tantrum. It wasn't like in the desert where the sun set like a rock falling into a dark lake. A family poured into a car, laughing and joking. The car park echoed with slamming doors. He winced at the noise. It sounded nothing like gunfire, or explosions, or the last gasping breath of a friend as you held his hand unable to help. Yep, it sounded like none of those things, so why in God’s names did it remind him of them. He kicked the wheel of the BMW, again and again, until pain shot up his leg and the sounds stopped repeating in his head like a skipping CD. 

He heard the camaro before he saw it. 

Nerves tightened his skin, made it itch like he was crawling with spiders. Rolling his shoulders and straightening out his top, he sat back on the hood of the car, wiping sweat from his face. He went back to chewing his bracelets.

He shot a look at a couple staring at him a few feet away. “What?” 

They scurried away from the lava erupting off his tongue. 

It had taken Gansey a day and a half to _sort out my arrangements_ and travel down from college, but seeing him still made Ronan swallow on a dry throat when the pig pulled into the parking lot. 

“Can't believe your still driving this shit box,” he said when Gansey got out in an awful orange polo that clashed with his car. The words trembled at the end and he coughed. 

Gansey didn’t reply, mouth slightly open as his eyes examined Ronan like he was looking for damage. 

Ronan rubbed a palm along his softening hair, and held the hand at the back of his head. He needed to shave it again. When the silence continued, and his thoughts veered off into something disjointed and painful, he concentrated on how the ache in his foot was spreading. He forced himself to wonder if maybe he’d broken a toe. A breeze caught him, and he could smell the body wash. It made his stomach ache. 

Gansey was still examining him, taking more than Ronan wanted to give. 

He stared at the ground, unable to hold the gaze. Pale skin glowed bright under streetlights. Cicadas called to each other in the distance. Traffic flowed by like the rush of a river. 

“Ronan,” he said the name like he meant to say _miracle_. 

He grinned. “Hey man.” 

Gansey closed the distance in three steps and pulled him into a tight embrace. He still smelled like mint leaves and books. Ronan blinked away tears. It had been a year since they had seen each other; his six month stint oversees had been extended to another six months without leave. Gansey’s strong arms pulled him even closer, like he thought Ronan might disappear. The hug went on longer than he would have liked and he was pretty sure he heard Gansey sniffle back a sob which did things to his heart that he refused to acknowledge. 

“Let's just go get some food,” he finally said, pushing the other man off him and walking away so he wouldn't see the pain and relief on Ganseys face. He thought Ronan was home, and Ronan hated that he would eventually have to tell him that most of him was still back in that desert. 

“I just can't believe you're here,” Gansey said as soon as they were sitting at a booth. 

Ninos hadn't changed; same tacky colours, too bright lights and terrible music. It still smelt of burnt cheese and sticky sweet soda. The chatter was almost too loud for Ronan. Tables full of families and dates and friends all enjoying the crowded restaurant. He swallowed and again. He was fine. He just needed to get used to civilians again. 

Someone bellowed out a laugh and he twitched. 

“When I heard what happened…” Gansey said, dragging his attention back to the table. 

Ronan cut him off. “ I don't want to talk about it.”

“But you were shot,” Gansey whispered like they were talking about something classified. “You wouldn't let any of us see you.” Politician Gansey emerged; all quiet dignified rage and self-righteous. “We were so worried. I flew to Germany, got to the hospital and they refused me entrance. Because of your request. Why?”

He couldn't answer, because his shoulder was suddenly aching, and all the blood in his body was rushing to his feet making him dizzy. Some part of him recognised that his shoulder had been aching since he checked himself out of the infirmary, but he couldn't remember when he'd stopped noticing, or when he'd stopped acknowledging it. Gansey was still talking but there was buzzing in Ronan ears. A helicopter. Someone shouting to move to the pickup point. Gunfire. Lots of it. Pain like his shoulder had been sliced open with a hot knife and Noah standing over him, shouting commands into a walkie… No. Ronan was not going there. He dragged his brain up through the dark water he was drowning in, and forced in a gasping breath when he resurfaced in Ninos. 

Gansey was staring at him. 

Ronan’s whole body was shuddering. Tears wet his cheeks. Embarrassed, he roughly wiped them dry and stared out at the restaurant, refusing to meet Ganseys eyes.

Gansey’s voice was gentle when he said, “Let's just order, okay?”

Ronan hated it but he nodded. 

He saw Gansey wave a hand out of the corner of his eyes. 

He was still refusing to look at him when the waitress came over. She was tiny, with short spiked hair and one of those 1950’s vintage style dress; all big skirts and a tight halter neck. Except she had covered the white and red flowers with black lace and patches of skulls. She had on dark eyeliner and too many bangles. They made her sound like an untuned instrument when she moved. Ronan thought she looked like an idiot. Risking a glance at Gansey, it was clear he thought she looked like his saviour. 

“Lovers quarrel?” she asked when she reached the table and noticed the visible tension.

Ronan scoffed, “Fuck no, I wouldn't date him if he paid me.” 

“Hey!”

The waitress grinned, “I dunno, if he lost the hideous orange colour and boat shoes, he might be worth a try.”

“Em, hello?”

“He's straight anyway,” Ronan supplied, ignoring his friends indignation. 

“Too bad for you.” 

“Could be a win for you though.” He wiggled his eyebrows and the waitress laughed. 

“I am right here you know.”

“Oh we know,” she said with a grin. There was something in her eye that told Ronan she was doing this on purpose, distracting him with the banter. This was only confirmed when she continued, “Nice tags.” 

He tucked his dog tags quickly into his vest, looking around to make sure no one else had noticed them. He didn’t remember when he had put them back on, or if he'd ever actually taken them off. They burned against his skin. He dropped his gaze, examining his blunt nails, picking at some loose skin and wondered if he should be concerned at how much he was forgetting. 

“My dad was in the army.” It was said like a confession in a dark box with a priest and a god. 

Ronan was no god but he looked up at her, curious. 

“He never came back. Not really.” Understanding was there. Release. 

It was like the whole restaurant paused for just a second to hear his answer. Ronan looked away, deserving neither. 

If she was disappointed, she didn't sound it when she said, “Hi, my name is Blue and I'll be your server today.”

Gansey who had been blessedly quiet through their exchange, muttered, “Blue?” 

Her eyebrows arched defensively. “Yes? Is that a problem?” 

“No, no, no, no.” 

Ronan loved this version of Gansey, fumbling and unsure. It was like watching a baby learn to walk. He could save him, but all his kindness was used up on coming here tonight. Something he regretted. Greatly. The thumping beat of his heart reminded him of the EDM he’d been listening to on the way over. 

“Could we have a large meat feast and two cokes, please?” Ganset managed between apologies.

“I will not make a meat feast joke. I will not make a meat feast joke,” she whispered theatrically as she wrote their order down. “I'll be right back with your drinks.”

Silence fell when she left and Ronan had no intention of breaking it. The memories from the two months in hospital were snacking on the remains of his heart but he didn't feel like he was coming apart at the seams. Not yet anyway. He lay his head back on the booth and shut his eyes. The lights were so bright he could see the pink of his eyelids. He could also hear Gansey ripping up a napkin. 

“I thought we'd lost you.”

“Well, here I am man. Honourably discharged.” It was hard to keep the shame from his voice. “A hero among common folk. A fighter of freedom. A goddamn patriot.” Anger was always easier and he could feel it pumping through his veins, bringing him back to life. 

Gansey was staring at him when he opened his eyes again. “So I've moved all my things back into Monmouth, and I'm not saying you have to move in too, but it might save you from being alone up there.”

Ronan was about to explain Noah was staying with him when the meaning behind Ganseys words hit him. “What do you mean you've moved back into Monmouth? What about your PHD?”

“I needed to do some fieldwork anyway. Did you know Virginia has a whole load of myths about Welsh Kings? If only I'd known that in high school, I could have been working on my dissertation all along.”

“Gansey.”

“Ronan, it's the first time you've been home properly in over four years. You've been through something traumatic, and I wanna be here man, okay?”

Ronan just nodded. 

Ganseys phone rang then, saving them both from anymore exclamations of love. “Oh, it's Malory, my supervisor, do you mind if I take this?” When Ronan nodded his assertion, Gansey left to go outside, already discussing the positives of his choice of fieldwork location. 

The waitress came back over with the drinks. “President Cellphone gone?”

“PHD business called.”

“Of course it did.” She hesitated for a minute and he heard her whisper _fuck it_ under her breath. “Okay, this is none of my business…”

He grinned, violent with disinterest. “Then don't get involved.” 

“Not the way my mama raised me.” She shrugged off his grin like it was made of tissue paper. “My mom and her two friends, they have a practice specialising in PTSD and trauma, among soldiers and others, but mostly soldiers. It's VA approved and it'll be covered by them, mostly, but look, here-” She handed him a card. 

He leaned back in the seat, feigning nonchalance and started chewing his bracelets again. “I don't need therapy,” he said around them. 

Blue rolled her eyes. “You just had a flashback in the middle of Ninos.”

He stared up at her, and away, dropping his hand from his mouth and pulling at the peeling plastic tabletop. 

“Daughter of a therapist. I know the signs.” She sounded impatient but not unkind. “You either need therapy or a priest.”

“Haven't been to church in a while.”

“Well, you need to exorcise the demons somehow.”

He knocked his knuckles off the table, refusing to look at her. “If I say I'll think about it, will you leave me alone?”

“Probably.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“You still haven't left yet.”

“You still haven't taken the card.” 

He tucked it in his pocket like it was a receipt he’d refused but was given anyway; crumbled and without any regard for its safety.

When he glanced back up, she was off serving someone else. 

“So tell me about your work?” He asked Gansey when he sat back down, knowing once he got the other man on a roll, he would barely have to contribute to the conversation at all.


	5. It is so important to have a hobby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam <3 This chapter is even longer which makes me feel successful. 
> 
> Any notes do send them my way :)

“Yo, Adam, boss man is in.” 

Adam rolled his eyes at the casual words before he pulled himself out from under the car. Boyd stood over him, squat and curved from too many years bent over an engine.

“Sorry, didn't realise we had a meeting today,” Adam shouted, rubbing oil onto his overalls. The garage was a pulsing organism; loud and alive with gasping metal breaths and the roars of men at its heart. It was only possible to converse through raised voices.

Boyd waved his hand in dismissal, “We didn't. I was just driving by and thought I'd call in. Saw something that might interest you.” The older man’s voice was loud. This place was his natural habitat. He grinned, teeth crooked and yellow. “Come get a coffee with me.” He turned without waiting for an answer and went into the staff canteen, calling out to the other mechanics, leaving gruff laughter and shouts of hello in his wake. 

Adam watched as the stout form disappeared, noting there was more grey hair since the last time he’d seen him a few weeks before. The idea of Boyd getting old made him uncomfortable. The man had given him work as a miserable fifteen year old with little to no knowledge of cars, and had trained him up to the point of expert. Adam sat up, balancing on the trolley for a second before pushing himself off. He pointed to one of the newer guys, closer to his age and more accepting of his authority, “Finish that diagnosis for me, would you?” 

The younger man nodded and flashed Adam a grin. 

Adam ignored how his stomach clenched pleasantly. Small town Virginia and a garage full of aging mechanics was not the place to explore his attraction to men. When he got back to the city, and back to normality, then he could go back to dating. Just another thing he'd put on hold for his mother. 

He nodded in return, shouted at some of the others to get back to work, and followed Boyd into the canteen. 

“How are ya getting on?” Boyd asked, making two coffees. He still remembered how Adam liked his and for some reason this made him flush. He wasn’t used to be cared for, or deemed important enough to be remembered. “The older lads still giving ya bother?”

“They're getting used to me.” He sat down on a rickety old chair and tapped the tabletop. 

The canteen was small but mechanics rarely took breaks together so it just about worked. The white walls were covered in safety posters and pictures of staff nights out and old cars they’d restored. A ratty brown couch leaned against one wall, sliding slightly to the right from too many years service. A coffee table in front of it was covered in car magazines and an old TV recited the news in the corner. The whole room was still bigger than his apartment in St. Agnes. 

“Made a few improvements to the work day,” he continued when Boyd looked at him quizzically. “Longer breaks and better coffee. I'm winning them over.”

“You always were a smart one,” Boyd answered sitting down and handing him a mug. 

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Adams curiosity got the better of him. “How can I help ya, sir?”

“Well, you can stop calling me sir anyway. You know I never expected that from ya, and now that profits are up four percent since you took over I expect it even less.”

Adam shrugged. “Just some easy fixes is all.”

“If they'd been easy, I'd have done them. No, they were smart and that's you all over.” Boyd's voice was raspy with forty years of cigarettes and hollering at workers. “Smart ya are, and that's why I know you're wasted here.”

Adam straightened, uncomfortable. “Sir, I…”

“I told ya, don't sir me. I'm not your daddy. Best thing that ever happened was that man going into the ground.”

Adam looked at his black coffee, wishing he could climb into it and drown. Burning heat surged through him. He'd always be seen as the trailer trash abuse victim in this town. He didn’t say anything, just took a sip of his coffee. 

“And I dunno what your mama was thinking asking you to stay. Well I do, but that's between me and the lord.” Boyd paused to take a sip of his coffee. The sound reverberated around the silent room. 

Adam felt eight again, kicked out and sleeping on the steps of his home. Every time he thought they'd all moved on, someone brought it up. 

“But anyway, that's not what I'm here to talk to you about.” Boyd tapped his finger against his cup. “I had my chance to step in years ago and I failed ya, that too is between me and my lord, but I can help ya now.” 

Electricity raced across Adam’s akin. No one has ever offered regret for not helping him. Just pity. Just judgement. “You don't have to…”

Boyd cut him off again. “Profits are up four percent in six months. Adam, you're smart and you pulled yourself up all by yourself. Now your mama ain't gonna hold on for too much longer, and I don't want those brains to go to waste while we all wait for her to pass, lord rest her soul right next to that bastard.” He took a long drink of his coffee. “You're not gonna be interested in listening to an old man rambling. I found this up at Aglionby and I thought it might suit you.” He handed Adam a piece of paper. 

After hesitating for a moment, Adam took it and read it quickly. 

_PHD student looking for a research assistant to help with his study into historical Welsh Kings and their connection to American myths. An interest in history is a plus but not necessary. Smart, hard-working and a willingness to learn._

_This is a paid position._

It went on to give contact details for someone named Gansey, which was the least PHD name Adam had ever heard. 

“You thought I'd be interested?” 

“Extra money and a smart friend and studying, I sure did. Remember how all you used to do was study?” Boyd took both their cups and began washing up. “What’d’ya’think?”

“Why were you in Aglionby?” 

The older man let out a delighted shout of laughter. “Nothing gets past you, lad. Not even a gift horse.” He laughed again. “Help the maintenance man out sometimes. This retirement business gets mighty boring when the wife is away on her cruises.” 

Adam nodded, excitement curling in his stomach. It was only the embers of something, but it was something. “Thanks Boyd. I really appreciate this.” 

“You're wasted here, Adam but that doesn't mean you can't be happy.” He nodded once and left Adam to his thoughts until the sound of something crashing dragged him back to the garage. 

*  
The phone rang three times before it was picked up. Adams stomach knotted itself just a little bit tighter with each dial tone. He hadn't wanted anything in a long time, but he realised with a start that he wanted this. Badly. Something to challenge him.

“Hello, Gansey speaking.” The voice was caramel, smooth with money and privilege. 

Adam's heart sank. Clipping his accent as best he good, finding it harder after six months at home, he answered, “I'm calling about the research assistant position. I was wondering if you were still looking?”

“Definitely. So far you're the only applicant. I was starting to despair.” The voice was old rich Virginia. “Are you an Aglionby student?” 

“I was,” he drawled and then stopped himself, remembering to keep his vowels. “Finished there a few years back. I did my undergrad in Harvard and my master's in Yale.”

There was silence for a moment before the voice said, “And you want to work with me?”

“I'm stuck in this town for a while-” he paused, unsure how to explain it. “Family stuff.” It was as precise and accurate as he was willing to get. “And well I'm bored and could do with a challenge.”

“What are your degrees in?”

He stared at the white walls of his cramped apartment, wondering if he should put some pictures up. Might make it look slightly less barren and cold. “Not history.”

Gansey laughed. 

Falling onto his bed, Adam grinned. “Undergrad; I majored in engineering and minored in Latin. Masters was mechanical engineering.” 

“Oh, wow.” Something about this privileged voice sounding impressed made Adam sit up a little straighter. The last few months, he'd forgotten how proud he was of what he’d achieved. “Are you sure this will interest you? Latin would be a major advantage to me. I mean, I have a passable understanding, and my best friend is fluent but I can't see him helping, not at the moment, and having another person would be so helpful-” the voice trailed off.

Adam wasn't sure how to respond. 

Gansey took a breath. “-would you be free to sit down later? I could tell you about my studies and we can see if you're still interested?”

Adam clutched at the definite plans. “That sounds good. Do you know Ninos? I could meet you there in an hour?”

“That's marvellous. Brilliant. I'll see you then.”

“Wear a red flower,” Adam joked and was pleased by Ganseys laughter in reply. “See you in a bit then.” 

He hung up and flopped back onto his lumpy mattress. Something to look forward to. A hobby even. People his age. Learning. Adam didn't bother forcing down his excitement. Even if it failed miserably, and this Gansey was rich and terrible, this feeling could power him for a month. 

*  
Blue grinned at him when he walked in. “Long time no see, Parrish. You avoiding me?”

“Only when I see you coming.”

Blues laughed was so loud the people at the closest table looked up in shock. “Come on, I'll show you to a table.” 

Adam examined his oldest friend as she led the way. She was wearing black legging shredded enough to show she has another red pair underneath. They were pulled right up to her waist where a grey crop top rested with the words _not psychic_ scrawled across it. Adam could see a black lace bralette peeking out from under it. He glanced away, up to her hair. It was spiked into a Mohawk with pink tips. 

Nino’s was practically empty so she led him to one of the back tables and sat down opposite him, calling out to a passing waitress that she was going to take five. It had been years since they'd dated, years passed by with boyfriends and girlfriends for both of them, but sometimes Adam would look at her and wonder. She was his first girlfriend and the only one of his ex's he kept as a friend. There was nothing there anymore, but then he'd catch a glimpse on a lonely night, and think maybe there could be again. Then, of course, he'd come back to his senses and remember Blue was the only family he had left now. She was the only one who knew _him_. 

“So, I know you didn't come to just see me,” she said, not bothering to give him a menu, just writing down his order without asking. 

“I'm meeting someone.”

This got her attention. “A girl?”

He shook his head. 

“A guy.”

“Yes. But not like that,” he assured her under the examining gaze. “He's doing a PHD, needs a research assistant. Boyd told me about it.”

“Not a bad man, ol’ Boyd.”

Adam nodded his agreement. “Anyway, I thought if, I mean when she passes, it might look good, that I kept up my studies. Say it was an avenue I wanted to pursue or something?”

Blue shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy, I say.”

She'd never been all that interested in CV’s and success. After high school she'd backpacked through Europe, before settling in Berlin for two years helping with research in the declining bee population. Now she was saving for South America to work on a habitat for pygmy tyrants which Adam had thought was a joke at first. It wasn't funny he learned very quickly after she sat him down and gave him an hour long lecture on the subject. Since she wanted to follow Maura as a PTSD expert, she needed life experience. According to both her and Maura. 

She left for a second to fill a drink order at another table, leaving Adam to watch the door. No one had come in since him. 

“I think I know your man, by the way,” she said, returning with his drink and placing it in front of him. “He was in a few nights ago. His friend said he was doing a PHD, and I mean it's Henrietta, how many of them can there be?” 

“Point him out to me if he arrives?” 

“Obviously.” A table of raven boys shouted at her. Blue swung around and glowered. “If you refer to me as a bar wench one more time, I will ban you for life. Understood?” 

The table fell silent and the three boys nodded, looking rightly chastised. 

Adam suffocated a laugh. 

“Better go work, I guess. It is what they're paying me for.” 

Adam was only waiting a few more minutes when a ridiculously attractive and chiseled man walked in. Every movement screamed money and excess and never having to struggle for anything. Adam’s heart fell. He’d known men like this his whole life. There was no way this man would want him to be his research assistant. Except when Blue pointed him over to Adam, his whole face changed, shifting to something friendly and almost unsure. Like he wanted this to work out as much as Adam did. 

“Hi, Adam?”

Adam stood up and shook his hand. “Gansey?”

“Yes, oh good. Blue pointed you out but I learned the other night she has the same sense of humour as Ronan and that tends to be taken with a pinch of salt.”

“She’s harmless. Mostly.”

“So is Ronan,” Gansey said with a fond smile and then pointed at the table. “Shall we?”

They both sat, and conversation was lost for a few minutes as they settled, moving chairs and taking off coats, looking around for Blue, and ordering for Gansey. When they had finally stopped and silence fell on the table, Gansey asked, “So Adam, What do you know about Welsh kings?”


	6. A midnight swim in the dark parts of your mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer because my brain hates me. If my brain continues to hate me, it might be a few days before my next update, but I'm hoping to continue on the one chapter a day schedule. 
> 
> I wanted to introduce Kavinsky in this chapter, but then I got Ronan drunk, and I hate when people casually drink and drive in stories, so party in The Barns instead. Except instead of a party, it's a super depressing view into a damaged mind. Wooooo! Angst!
> 
> Thanks for all the love so far. You are wonderful people!!

Ronan spent his twenty sixth birthday alone at the edge of his property sitting by his parents grave and drinking whiskey. 

Even he would admit, although never to Declan, that the decision to bury them here had been the right one. When his dad died, his mom has given up so quickly it was up to Declan to plan to funeral and burial. This place was calm. Green fields fluttered like ocean current in the wind, and in the distance he could make out yellow flowers covering the mountains like a rash. Trees offered shade to visitors and lavender Ronan had planted reminded him of his mother. 

Only the Lynch brothers visited now. 

The graves were clean white marble, sand-washed every six months. It was an expense no one minded paying. Simple words on each one; Niall, the dreamer, and beside him, Aurora, the dream. A joke between his parents.

“Maybe I dreamed you,” Niall would say. 

Aurora would laugh and thank him for the straight teeth. 

Ronan took a long drag of whiskey, coughing when he swallowed. It was cheap over the counter stuff and it burned all the way down. The pain grounded him. Here was not a place he wanted associated with his flashbacks. 

It struck him that he never actually thought he'd get this far; he really thought he'd be dead by now. He was drowning, unable to see which way was up and he wasn't sure when it had started. It'd be easy to blame the gunshot and that final battle, but that felt too convenient. That path had been decided for him when Declan sent him to military school, but again that decision was made because Ronan's parents were gone; his mom following his dad into the grave six months apart. 

Ronan sometimes felt like his life had never really been in his control and it had only gotten worse after their deaths. He was just a piece other people moved around to rules he never understood until it was too late. Once he realised this, he became the perfect soldier. He'd learnt in military school if he just did what they said no one bothered him with words like _therapy_ or _broken_ or _problematic_. Switching off the argumentative side of his brain became habit, and later when all the resentment and anger overflowed, there was always the shooting range or a boxing ring, a too fast drive on dark roads or a bottle of whiskey and too loud music. If there was anything he hated more than the boxes people wanted him in, it was the boxes they decided on when he didn't fit the labeled ones. 

Here's the box for people like _you_. 

Like he was fundamentally wrong. 

The only time Ronan felt in control was when he was burning his life to the ground. Reckless energy pumped at his core, and all he ever wanted was chaos. He took a hit of whiskey, gasping as it burned his mouth and landed in his stomach. There was an age when that was no longer acceptable. An age when you couldn't self destruct your problems, you had to face them. 

Today was not that day, Ronan thought. Not when the screams of his regiment echoed in his ears and his shoulder ached. Not when his parents lay six feet under and his best friend looked at him like he was a stranger. Ronan finished off the whiskey and stumbled to his feet, falling and forcing himself back up again. 

If he was going to drown, Ronan Lynch was going to take his whole world with him. 

The pig was sitting in the driveway when he made it back to the house. Gansey was leaning against it, phone in his hand. Ronan grinned when he saw him. Maybe he could convince Gansey to join the self-destruction. He did sometimes. They were the best nights Ronan ever had. Burning rubbish and smashing bottles and too much alcohol and the best kind of conversations. Usually though, Gansey went the other was; the more irresponsible Ronan got, the safer Gansey became. Like he was trying to make up for his friends behaviour, balancing the cosmic scales. 

Ronan already knew he was going to hell. He was just trying to get into the most exclusive circle now. “Gansey,” he slurred and his friend looked up from his phone. Ronan fell as he climbed over a fence and Gansey frowned. 

“You’re drunk.”

Ronan didn’t bother getting up off the dusty ground. The world was spinning too badly. “It’s ma birthday.”

“I came to see if you wanted to get dinner or something, celebrate.” Gansey walked over to him, blocking out the sun and staring down at him. “I guess you already started.”

The look on his face made Ronan want to break something. He’d start with his heart but that was already shattered beyond repair. Burned to ashes and scattered across an unforgiving desert. He forced himself to his feet, pushing away Gansey's hand. “It. Is. My. Birthday.”

“Sleep it off, Ronan. I’ll come by tomorrow and we can celebrate then.”

Something in his voice destroyed Ronan’s weak hold on the dark parts of his brain. “What’s the point? All of this.” He gestured to the sky and the fields and the mountains. Even his house and his cows and his barns. “What is the point, Gansey? Why did I make it home? What’s the point? Please, Gansey. Please just tell me what I’m meant to do now.” He was crying, splintering sharp sobs cutting up his chest and throat. 

Gansey didn’t touch him, although his hand did jerk forward before he stopped it. Ronan was grateful. “Man, I don’t know why you got home, although I am eternally grateful, and I don’t know what you do for the rest of your life, but for now, just for today, we’re going to sober you up, and I’ll order in food, and we’re going to play videogames, and pretend everything is normal again.”

“Pretend?” He wiped his eyes too hard, dragging his hand over his cheeks and stretching out the skin until it ached. “Just like that?”

“Just for today.”

“You’ll stay tonight?”

“As long as you need me to.”

He almost mentioned Noah, but something kept Ronan’s mouth shut. He stepped forward and stumbled. 

Gansey caught him. “How much did you drink?”

“I dunno, some whiskey.” At the scornful look his answer received, he supplied, “A bottle of whiskey.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that right? When was the last time you ate?”

Ronan shrugged, a wave of nausea hitting him. “I think I might vomit.”

Gansey nodded like it was inevitable. “Try to hold it until I get you to the toilet.”

Three hours later, Ronan had finally stopped vomiting and had managed to shower. He was sipping the salty soup Gansey had made him and drinking pint after pint of water. It was sloshing about in his stomach but it was making him feel better. Gansey was watching some documentary on Netflix. 

When he finished eating, he curled up on the other end of the couch and examined Gansey. "Did you ever find someone to help with your research?"

"I did," Gansey's face lit up. "His name is Adam. He's our age, home for some family thing. I don't know, he didn't really go into details, but he's so smart. Could give you a run for your money. Especially with latin."

Ronan snorted. "Ut dubium." When Gansey glanced at him. "Doubt that."

He rolled his eyes. "He knows the waitress from Nino's as well." The casual way he said it told Ronan there was nothing casual about the mention.

"When do I get to meet this perfect man?"

He hated the excitement and disbelief etched across Gansey's face. It was like he never expected Ronan to ask. "Whenever you want to." 

Ronan shrugged, "Maybe next week." His eyes were getting heavy, stomach insisting he sleep or it would start expelling its contents again. He shut his eyes, and felt Gansey shift back to watching TV. The droning voice of the narrator, and the gentle heat of his best friend, lulled him into an easy sleep.

When he woke, there was a blanket thrown over him and Gansey was asleep, head bent at an odd angle. The only light was from the TV playing some show Gansey must have switched on. Noah stood in the doorway, examining him. 

“You should tell him I’m here.” It didn’t sound like Noah. The voice was rough like he’d been screaming. It kept fading in and out like a badly tuned radio. 

“Not yet, man. Soon.”

“Ronan, you need to face the truth.”

“I said not yet.”

“Ronan.”

“Noah, please. Just a little bit longer.” 

Staring into Noah’s eyes felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff, staring into a darkness that poured into him, filling every space until he was bloated and hurting. The horror of it expanded his skin, stretching and ripping for more space. He was cracking down the middle, and there was nothing he could do about it. The inevitable truth was coming. Ronan took in a gasping breath. He knew eventually he would have to jump off, and face what was hiding down there, but if his mind was happy to keep it hidden from him, he was happy to stay in denial. 

Noah examined him for a long minute. 

“Please.”

Noah nodded, a short, sharp thing that told him he was running out of time.

“Ronan?” Gansey asked, voice sleep-quiet. “Who are you talking to?”

“Go back to sleep, man. I was just dreaming.”

When he looked back to the doorway, Noah was gone.


	7. Self-care is not just a river in Eygpt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Ronan meet! Yay! More Angst but, and this is important, Adam is happy. So double yay. Also he's wise but also an idiot about people doing nice things for him. 
> 
> All the comments and kudos and bookmarks and subscriptions; you get a kiss and you get a kiss and you get a kiss, everyone gets a kiss!

Adam Parrish did not like owing anyone anything. 

It was not a point of pride like many of his college friends thought. It was pure survival. Owing people things gave them power over you, and Adam had already suffered enough at the hands of people who held the power. 

It was either on equal terms or not at all. 

The problem was even he had to admit, he owed Boyd. It was only the third time he and Gansey had met up, but following the man up the side of a mountain was the happiest Adam had been in months. He decided if he raised the profits another four percent then him and Boyd would be square. Numbers was something easily equatable in Adams mind and those figures felt right to him. Happiness could be equal to money. Some whispering voice told him Boyd had just done it because he cared about Adam, but he refused to examine it. He didn’t really understand how to get back on equal ground with someone if they were doing something out of love. Love couldn’t be equated to numbers, he was pretty sure, so the profits were the best way he could show he appreciated what the man had done. He huffed up the mountain, feeling lighter with the problem solved. He was much slower than Gansey who spent way more time hiking. 

Out of the city, the air was less hot and dense, broken up by trees and mountains and strong winds. The scent of flowers tickled his nose. The long grass shivered in the breeze. Goosebumps prickled along his skin. 

He felt alive. 

Gansey had already reached the top and was gazing out with his hands on his hips. He wore camel coloured cargo shorts, the pockets bulging with pens and notebooks and snacks he insisted on bringing. He’d made the climb in boat shoes which made Adam feel better about his equally unsuitable footwear; holey sneakers he'd had for six years. The magenta top the other boy wore stood in harsh contrast to the pale blue sky, making Adam wonder for a second if he was dreaming this ridiculous man. 

“The weather is perfect today,” Gansey said, glancing around and then turning his dazzling smile on Adam. This wasn't the politician smile he'd used on the landowner to get permission to hike. That one could probably get the moon and sun to hang in the same sky. No this smile, Adam was quickly learning, was the real Gansey laid bare. Studious, unsure and excited. 

Adam huffed out a laugh at the whimsical thought. If he could bring his dreams to life, he didn’t think he would have had the imagination to conjure up someone as perfectly strange and together and rich. “Excelsior,” Adam replied because he'd heard Gansey say it a few times. 

He was rewarded with a laugh so loud birds flew squawking from trees. This just made both men laugh. 

“Onwards and upwards, Adam. Onwards and upwards.”

Hours later when they returned to the car and packed up their things, Gansey asked Adam if he wanted to go to Nino's for dinner. Really Adam needed to visit his mother. He made a point of going twice a week, but today, he couldn't face the nursing home, full of death and sickness. Not after spending the day feeling so like himself again. He didn’t mean to want to impress Gansey but he couldn’t help it. Every time the other man considered a point he made, or complimented his argument, Adam remembered a bit more of himself. 

Seeing his mom would suck all the hard won pride out like blood to a tick. She couldn’t have his time or his care right now. It was like Persephone always said; self-care was as important breathing sometimes. 

This, he decided, would definitely constitute looking after himself. 

Before he turned on the roaring pig, Gansey picked up his phone and dialled a number. “Ronan, my friend. Do you mind if I invite him? I'm trying to get him out of the house more.”

Adam nodded his consent and looked out the window, as if by doing so he couldn't hear the conversation. The pig smelled like gasoline even with the engine off, reminding Adam of the garage. He had tomorrow off as well, and had already made plans to go to the library with Gansey. It felt weird to have things to do on the weekend, instead of just sitting in by himself or visiting his mother. 

The dial tone rang through the quiet car. 

“What?” The voice was mostly muffled but what he could hear was angry and impatient; a snake about to strike. 

“Ronan, you answered. Miracles do happen.”

There was a pause as Gansey listened and Adam heard a string of expletives down the phone. Something about a _Declan_. Something about _getting him out of my fucking house_. Something about _ratting him out_.

“Man, I promise you I didn't tell Declan you were back…” Pause. More angry cursing. “No Ronan, I'm not an idiot. Do you think if I was going to tell him I wouldn't warn you first? Warn him not to visit you until you were ready?” Pause. More cursing but quieter this time like this Ronan person was running out of steam. “Look, deny it all you want but we both know you haven't been alright since you got back. You survived a war, Ronan. You got shot.” 

This actually caught Adams attention. War? Shot? Who was Gansey’s best friend with the same sense of humour as Blue? Adam wasn't sure why he remembered that from his first meeting with Gansey's but he did. 

The cursing was back up the full volume. Something about _everyone needing to back the fuck off. He wasn't their fucking pity project. He fucking didn't fucking need fucking fixing, Dick_. 

“Jesus Ronan.” Gansey looked as Adam turned him head, eyebrows raised. He mouthed sorry and shut his eyes tiredly against the current tirade of _taking the Lord's fucking name in fucking vain_. “You're not okay. Not after everyone else…” 

The phone went silent.

“He hung up on me,” Gansey said, voice laced in shock. “He hasn't done that since we were seventeen.” Gansey typed out a quick message and threw the phone in the ashtray. “I'm sorry about him. He's had a hard time lately. I've text him to say we're going to Ninos in case he decides to join us.” 

“Dick?”

Gansey grimaced. “Please don’t.”

Adam laughed, and went back to looking out the window. “You mentioned a war? He was shot?” He glanced at Gansey, apologetically. “Sorry, I couldn't help but hear.”

“He got back three weeks ago. Pretty severe PTSD. The last week there-” He stopped and didn't continue. “It's not my story to tell.” Gansey turned on the pig and shouting over the noise said, “So how did you find today?” He asked and without waiting for a response, he started telling a story about his supervisor Malory.

Adam let the subject drop, knowing it wasn't any of his business. The problem was his interest was piqued now. He wanted to know about the man with PTSD. Adam knew a little about it himself having being diagnosed with a mild case in his second year of college. He'd been working too hard, trying to get to finals and finish papers and work full time as well. The first flashback happened in the library when he caught sight of the back of someone who looked like Robert Parrish. The second was on a night shift in the 24 hour diner he was working in at the time. Nothing preceded that one. He just want into a full on flashback of the night he lost his hearing, barely managing to make it to the bathroom before the flashback turned into a panic attack. After that, he called Blue who made him go to her family. Persephone had given him the diagnosis and some coping mechanisms. 

He dealt with it the same way Adam dealt with anything; logically.

He learned everything he could and applied whatever was suitable. 

CBT and exercise and recognising when he was pushing himself too hard; these all helped him stay ahead of it. Most of his attacks were brought on by stress so he took up meditation using an app on his phone and tried yoga for a while. He preferred running now though. Although he liked having yoga in his toolkit in case it ever got bad again. Blue and her family had helped, coaching him every time he was home for the holidays. Persephone had taught him everything she knew, had taken his calls and guided him through breathing. She was still on speed dial. Just in case. 

Recovery was an ongoing process, she’d taught him. It was like happiness in that regard. It wasn't about the unseeable future, just about the moments you found on the way. 

Gansey was still talking about Glendower, but only expected small exclamations from him. Adam had already learned if he could get Gansey on a run, he was free to let his thoughts wander. They pulled up at Ninos twenty minutes later, next to a charcoal BMW. A tall man sat on the hood, all broad shoulders and long legs, slim waist and strong arms. He was biting at something around his wrist. His head was shaved, and his blue eyes gleamed in the streetlight, making him look like the sharp edge of a sword. He wore black like he was going to a funeral but the twist of his lips told Adam he hadn't decided who was going to die yet. Him and the grim reaper had yet to settle that particular bet. Adam felt the man's eyes on him before the pig had even stopped. Something uncomfortable knotted in his gut. This man screamed danger, and yet Adam wanted to learn more. 

Ganseys whole mood lifted when he saw him. “Ronan,” he called, getting out of the car. “I didn't think you would come.”

“Declan wouldn't leave so I did. Who's the shithead?”

“Ronan.”

Adam shrugged as he got out of the car, managing to calm his blushing cheeks before he turned. “Who's the dick, Dick?”

Ronan laughed, a sound that both pleased Adam and sent a shiver the length of his spine. There was something about the laugh that reminded him of endings. Ronan sounded like he did not expect to be around much longer. Maybe he'd already given up and this was his afterlife. Dinner with a ghost could be interesting, Adam supposed. 

“Adam,” Gansey warned.

They way he said their names was the same; like he was trying to scold unruly children. 

Ronan glanced away when Adam looked over, and he couldn't help but wonder what the other man saw when he examined him. 

“Anyway I don't wanna crash this date," Ronan announced to Gansey's clear dismay. "I'm gonna head. Plenty of places to be tonight. Dick." He nodded at Adam, "Shithead.”

Their eyes met briefly and Adam felt a surge of _something more_.

Gansey huffed in annoyance. "I don't know why you would come out this far if you were only going to leave straight away."

Adam smirked, “Your razor sharp wit will be missed.”

"Told you, if Daclan wasn't leaving, I was. Now you don't have to lie when you tell him you saw me tonight." Ronan bowed, “Bye losers.” The closing door echoed across the carpark. Adam thought he saw Ronan flinch at the sound, but then the other man streaked away, electronica blaring. He did three donuts across the near empty tarmac and was gone. 

“Yes. So. That was Ronan. He's not great a first impressions and like I said, he's just back from the army and…” Gansey petered off and Adam turned away from the road. The BMW was out of sight anyway. “He's not bad. He's just…”

“Going through a hard time?” Adam supplied, walking towards Ninos. 

Gansey looked grateful for the words. “Yes exactly, a hard time.”

“Looks to me like he's creating a even harder time for himself,” Adam replied. “Be easier if he just did the counselling now and got on with getting better. Wallowing in it ain't gonna help no one, and certainly not him.”

“Well, yes,” Gansey replied as they sat. “But do you want to try and make him do something he doesn't want to do?” 

Adam shrugged, waving at Blue as she hurried past carrying plates, and noticing how Gansey lit up when he saw her too. Interesting. “Gansey, I've no interest in making anyone do anything they don't want to do. All I know is there’s a fall coming and the only person that's gonna be able to help Ronan get back up is Ronan himself.” He shrugged. “But look, it's none of my business. I'm just your research assistant.”

“And friend,” the other man quickly supplied, from behind his menu. 

Something in Adam warmed at the words. “And friend,” he agreed.


	8. Take the past and add a dash of nostalgia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kavinsky! Declan! Character growth! Probably! Also I don't believe for a second Declan and Ronan wouldn't have fixed all their crap while also simultaneously annoying the hell out of each other regularly. 
> 
> Next chapter Adam, Gansey and Ronan have an adventure together. I am very excited for it. 
> 
> Thank you for all the comment and kudos and etc... you are my heros!

As the car roared to life and he spun donuts in the car park of Nino’s, Ronan ignored the part of him that wanted to stay and see how much he could annoy Gansey’s new friend. He pulled out of the car park and turned up his music. It was better if he left them both alone in their happy normal world without him hanging about like a malignant poltergeist. He drove away fast, before he could change his mind, plowing through stop signs with little care for what was coming the other way. He laughed as horns sounded in his wake. Bitter joy bit at his heart. At least he felt almost alive when he was inches from death. 

“Can’t believe you left me alone in the house with Declan.”

Ronan swerved into oncoming traffic and just managed to get the car back under control. “Fucking hell, Noah. Don’t do that.” He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and he let out a whoop of laughter. “Or do. Whatever.”

“You know you could act a little more excited to be alive. I would love...”

“Noah,” Ronan warned, refusing to hear whatever the other man had to say. The darkness was waiting for him, right below the surface, but he refused to jump in. Not yet. Whatever had happened over there, he didn't want to remember. “And anyway, I didn’t _leave you alone in the house with Declan_ ," he imitated the other man. "Aren’t you like a figment of my fucked up imagination or something?”

“Did you just call me your imaginary friend?” Noah scoffed. “The great and mighty Ronan Lynch still has imaginary friends.” The laughter rang out over his music. 

Ronan smiled. “Loser.”

“Least I don’t talk to myself.”

Ronan turned to look at him but the car was empty. 

The panic attack was a quick drop into a deep ocean. He sucked in a gasping breath of air and was lost to its cold depths. Some mechanical part of him, muscle memory probably, managed to pull the car over before he lost himself. 

He was back in the desert. 

Something exploded to his right as he and Noah ducked down behind a wall. The hot sand burned his palm as he leaned up to look over the bricks. Noxious fumes scalded the inside of his nose. The convoy behind them was overturned and burning. Men were scrambling out under heavy fire from the buildings. The was a roadblock ahead. A trap. Noah was relaying this to control. He couldn’t see the rest of his regiment. The flash of a mirror caught his eye; a signal. They were across the road, taking cover and hopefully clearing the building of the snipers. 

“So what do you want to do tonight?” Noah asked lightly as he reloaded his gun and lay down cover for the soldiers pulling the injured from the burning jeep. 

Ronan fired four rounds before looking over at him with a grin, “I’m thinking its a drinking sort of night.”

Noah laughed, and answered control buzzing in his radio. Ronan put his full attention back on keeping the other soldiers safe. 

It took too long for his brain to release him from the burning toxic place. Gunshots and explosions rang in his ears. He could smell the burning metal, feel the hot sand beneath him. They faded, buzzing like bad radio reception. He didn’t break free all at once, instead flashes and disjointed images pounded him until finally he cleared the surface, gasping like he’d run a mile. He'd managed to park pretty haphazardly in a supermarket car park; the BMW somehow occupying six spaces. He didn't remember doing it. The car was still on, growling lazily beneath him. The shop was closed, and the only person staring at him was a homeless man, sitting outside the dark building. Ronan wiped his face clean of sweat and tears, hands trembling and heart beating so fast he thought he might die. When he started crying it wasn’t a release like people used to say it would be after his parents died. It didn’t make him feel better. It was like someone scratched open his skin and revealed his nerves to icey air. It was like dying over and over again. Pain seared through him, an insurmountable amount. 

He prayed and wished and begged he’d died in that place. 

He kept breathing and the tears stopped slowly. 

Weak and alone, Ronan did the only thing he knew would help. He went to find alcohol and oblivion. The bar was low lit and pounding with EDM. The ceilings practically grazed his head, and the walls were painted black. Messily hung band posters were the only colour. His boots stuck to the floor with every step. The crowd was a pulsing thing, thrumming with life and heat. It was so loud, he couldn’t think. He thought maybe about never leaving. Everyone was his age or older, looking to escape responsibilities none of them had signed up for; college loans and offices, shitty jobs for little money, rent and crappy lovers. Ronan fit right in. 

He managed to find a place at the bar and order himself two beers and a shot of whiskey. He downed all three while the barman got his change, and then ordered another round. The shaking in his hands wouldn’t stop. It vibrated under his skin until he was scratching under his bands to ease the panic. It was only when he ordered a third round did he notice the blood on his fingertips. He wiped it away on his black jeans, blinking away images. His shoulder ached. His heart ached. 

Someone sat down beside him. 

“Well, well, well,” the voice said. “Look who’s returned from the big bad war.”

Ronan shot the visitor a look. “Kavinsky.”

“I haven’t seen you since you got kicked out of Aglionby.”

“Because of you.” Ronan did a shot of whiskey. The tension knotted across his shoulders was finally loosening. He gripped the beer bottle, nodding at the barman to get him another. He switched the empty one out with the full one before turning to look at the other man. 

Kavinsky looked like the same Russian piece of shit he’d been in high school. Too skinny, sick almost. Wearing all black to match the rest of the bar clientele. Colour was for happy people and senators. This was where people went to burn. The way he was looking at Ronan did not make him entirely uncomfortable, but it was close. Ronan had never been interested in Kavinsky but there was something intoxicating in the way the other man so clearly _was_ interested in Ronan. 

Especially when Ronan was a screwed up seventeen year old. 

Especially when he was a messed up twenty six year old.

Kavinsky laughed, “I never told you to drive _through_ the wall of the school, man. I just said do some damage.” When Ronan didn’t reply, he said, “Hasn’t been as fun without ya.” 

Ronan held up the brown beer bottle and examined how much he had left. 

“Heard you got shot.”

“What do you want, Kavinsky?”

“I’m bored. You’re here. I want to have fun.”

“Fine.” He swallowed the rest of the beer in one long drag. “You still got your piece of shit mitsubishi?”

“You still got your piece of shit BMW?”

Ronan grinned something violent. “Well let’s go then.” 

The alcohol hit Ronan as soon as he was out in the cool night air. He blinked, tripping over the curb and laughed as the ground surged up to meet him. He lay on the warm tarmac, staring at the stars. “Man, I’m drunk. No racing tonight.” 

Kavinsky stared down at him, disgust curling his lip. “The Ronan Lynch I knew couldn’t give a fuck about driving drunk.”

Ronan laughed like he'd said the funniest thing. “ _The Ronan Lynch you knew_.” He slurred the accent, and laughed again, forcing away the pain in his chest. “Fuck, Kavinsky. You haven’t changed a fucking bit, does that not bore you?” 

The other man sat down beside him. The music was still pumping out of the club, and patrons were giving them weird looks as they moved past. The bouncers watched them carefully. Kavinsky lit a cigarette. Ronan stared up at the stars. 

“Does it not bore you, fuckface?” Kavinsky didn’t sound angry, just like he wasn’t at all interested in the conversation. Ronan knew better. “Being such a pious prick that thinks he’s better than everyone else? You and Gansey are the same type of loser.” He blew smoke in Ronan’s face watching as he inhaled it and blew it back out again. Kavinsky licked his lips. “At least you used to be a little interesting. Now you’re pathetic.”

Ronan laughed again, but only so he wouldn’t feel the tears clawing up his throat. He glanced over and whispered, “Fuck you.”

“You wish.” The cigarette glowed bright in the darkness, making Kavinsky's eyes look like they belonged to a monster. “I’m only here for a few weeks. Have some crap to sort out with my piece of shit mother. If you want to have some fun while I’m here, you just give me a call.” Something soft landed on his chest. “We used to have fun, didn’t we?”

Ronan looked away from the glowing eyes and back to the stars. The ground was starting to calm it’s constant movement. “You ever wish we’d died at that fourth of July party?”

“All the fucking time, man. All the fucking time.”

Declan came to pick him up. 

Kavinsky was long gone, not interested in reacquainting himself _with your fucktard brother_. Ronan stood up from the curb when he saw the familiar car. He didn't say anything when he got in, just fingered the business card Kavinsky had given him. 

“What's that?” Declan asked, glancing away from the road and back just as quickly. 

Ronan wanted to laugh at how cautious a driver his brother was. “Just some rubbish.” He still put it carefully in his pocket, unwilling to lose the chance for more chaos. “Why are you here, Declan?” 

“You called me for a lift, Ronan.” 

He rolled his eyes at the irritated tone. “I meant in Henrietta. I meant in The damn Barns.” Headlights slid past them, and when Ronan rolled down the window the scent of petrol and asphalt saturated the car. He could just make out the sound of cicadas over the roar of engine, and the laughter of people they drove by. He stared out, refusing to look at his brother. Saturday night in Henrietta was alive. He wondered what Gansey was doing. Wondered if he was still with his new friend Adam. Wondered for a brief second if Adam would also become his new friend. 

“Are you serious? We thought we'd lost you. We thought…” Declan took a long breath and let it out slowly. “And then you won't let us see you and suddenly you're gone. Just... Gone.”

“Did Gansey tell you?”

His brother slammed his hands on the wheel and Ronan flinched. Declan didn't notice. “No. Precious Gansey didn't betray you.” He took a left turn out of town and drove the dark roads carefully. “I rang the army base. I wanted to pick you up. I wanted to see you with my own eyes.”

Something in his voice broke Ronan. “Sorry, man. I needed… I couldn't…” He stared out the window at the flash of green. The silence seemed louder over the shout of the wind and the smooth roll of tires on the road.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What do you need?”

“Time.”

Declan nodded. “Have you thought about counselling?”

“I had a conversation about it.” He was glad he could answer honestly. “I haven't gotten further than that.”

Silence fell again. Ronan glanced over at his brother, noting how tired he looked, how tense his arms were on the steering wheel. He realised his brother was trying very hard not to push him further than he could go. They turned into The Barns. “Does Matthew know I'm back?”

“I told him you're fine but stuck in some army hospital we're not allowed visit.” He parked the car and neither of them made any move to get out. “You should call him.” 

“I can't lie to him.” 

“Then tell him the truth.” 

Ronan bit the band's around his wrist. “Are you staying?”

“I've got to get back to D.C. I’ve work in the morning.”

The dark house stared down at him, and for once Ronan didn’t want to go home. “Thanks for getting me, man.” He went to get out and Declan stopped him with a warm hand on his wrist. 

“We’re here, me and Matthew. If you need…” He stopped and nodded back at the steering wheel. “I better get going.”

Ronan sat on the steps leading to the house for a long time after he left. Eventually Noah joined him. “You should call Blue’s mam, get an appointment.”

“Will you stay if I get better?”

“Would you want me to stay?”

Ronan didn’t have an answer for him.


	9. Where is my heart? What is your heart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. It was my brain. Anyway. I'm mostly fine again. Can form coherent sentences and everything. 
> 
> Ended it on a tiny cliffhanger because I'm mean and also because it'll keep me writing! 
> 
> Thanks for the messages and kudos!

Adam woke early on Sunday morning. The slanted roof of his apartment was still laced in shadows. Sunlight was just peeking in the small window in the corner. The was a small thrill echoing across his skin. It was an unfamiliar feeling, something he hadn't felt in… Well, since the day after graduation. Unwilling, he thought back to that day, remembering the dull light of his dorm room and the slept-in feeling of his sheets. He’d stretched, head thumping only a little from the party the night before. Graduation had been attended by neither of his parents, not that he actually cared. The suit he’d worn was folded neatly on his desk ready for next week; he had interviews lined up, but he had treated himself to five whole days of freedom. He was planning a road trip with his friends. They were going to as many theme parks as they could find. When his phone rang, he didn't even look at the number. Just assumed it was one of them telling him they'd found another rollercoaster. 

“Adam, your father died.” 

The line crackled. It took Adam at second to recognise the voice, and another second to understand what his mom was telling him. She could have been telling him what she had for dinner for all the emotion he felt. 

She must have continued talking, but he heard none of it, and eventually she said, “Adam, are you there?” She sounded impatient. “Did you hear me? Your father died.” 

“Okay.” He sat up, throwing his legs off the bed and shivering as cool wood touched the soles of his feet. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Don't you want to know when the funeral is?” She didn’t sound like she'd been crying. 

“No.” Adam’s heart was beating a painful rhythm against his chest. He could feel his pulse in his wrist. For some reason, his left ear hurt. “But like I said, thanks for letting me know.”

“I need you to come home.” It was not a request. It was the same tone she used to use when she wanted him to stop crying, when she told him _it was really your fault, wasn’t it Adam?_

He swallowed on a thick throat. “No.”

“Adam, sweety-”

He hated when she did that; pretended to care about him, pretended to be a mom. 

“-I just need help getting through the funeral. Three days. Please. I never ask you for anything.”

“Mom, I can't.”

“Adam.” It was the crack in her voice that broke his resolve. She'd never wanted him but now she needed him. Somewhere in his mind, five year old Adam was begging him to go home, see her, and bury the bastard. Prove to himself he was actually free of him. 

“Fine, I'll be home tomorrow.”

“Do you wanna know how he died?”

“No.” Adam hung up the phone. 

Adam blinked himself back to his crappy room, and tried to push away the bitterness that came with the memory. It had been so easy when he got home for her to manipulate him into staying. Using their relatives to apply pressure, and play up the illness. Not that there was anything to play up, it turned out. If she had gone to the doctors earlier, if she hadn’t ignored the signs, if she hadn’t allowed her husband to drink their money and control her, if, if, if. Taking three deep breaths, he let the thoughts and feelings seep out of him. 

_They are not you. They do not control you._ Persephone's voice was clear in his head. 

He sat up and scrunched up his feet in his slippered socks, grounding himself. He was here. He was going to the library today. He was going to be late if he didn’t get up. 

He was waiting on the steps to St. Agnes when the roaring orange camaro pulled up. Gansey was on the phone when he got in. 

“What do you mean you left the car behind?” Someone said something. Gansey smiled at Adam and mouthed _Ronan_ , before continuing, “So you got drunk at a bar, and instead of driving, called Declan to come pick you up and even had a civil conversation with him? I'm so proud right now.” 

Ronan said something that sounded like _fuck you, Dick._

“Let me just check with Adam.” Gansey turned to him, “Do you mind if we pick up Ronan and drop him to his car?” 

Adam shrugged and Gansey smiled a beaming thing. 

He went back to the conversation. 

Adam stopped listening, and stared out the side window, ignoring the excitement he felt at seeing Gansey’s other friend. He was a viper, warning stripes included, and yet Adam wanted to get as close as he could. Despite knowing full well he could get bitten. Ronan could do real damage, and yet the way Gansey had talked about him at Nino's last night like he was worth worshipping, worth saving, gave Adam pause. He only barely knew Gansey but he knew he was smart, and from what he could tell, a good judge of character. 

“The Barns is about thirty minutes away,” Gansey said, pulling him from his thoughts. “Thanks for agreeing to this.”

“No problem,” Adam replied, not quite sure what he'd agreed to. 

The Barns was the most beautiful property Adam has ever seen. Not because of its size, or the fact it was obviously owned by people with money, but because it looked like home. It looked like a place you could rest after a long day and somehow your weary soul would find a place to breathe again. Adam was suddenly and painfully aware of how privileged the company he kept was. It would take him a lifetime to own a place like this, and here was Ronan strolling out like it had been made around him and for him and because of him. Ronan belonged here in a way Adam had never belonged anywhere, and for some reason that hurt. 

He got out as the tall man stride towards the car, and pulled back the seat. 

“Shithead,” Ronan said but with no malice. 

“Asshole.” 

Ronan laughed a small huff, and climbed into the car, long limbs folding over until he was draped across the back seat. Adam fought the sudden urge to climb in after him. He got back into the front seat. 

“Adam Parrish. Ronan Lynch.” Gansey looked between the two. “Play nice.”

“I always play nice,” Ronan snarled. 

Adam snorted. 

“Problem, Parrish?”

“Not at all, Lynch.” 

Ronan caught his eye in the rearview mirror. Adam grinned. Gansey sighed. “Onwards and upwards, then. Onwards and upwards.” 

*

“That jacked up piece of shit, I'm going to tear his fucking skin off…”

Adam decided, as he sat on the hood of the Camaro and watched Ronan stalk back and forth across an empty car park, that there was something poetic in the way Ronan Lynch expressed anger. Not just in words but in every movement of his body, every facial expression, every violent gesture. Loose gravel cracked underfoot adding more sincerity to his rage. Humid air sat under grey clouds that whispered of a coming thunderstorm. Cars roaring past seemed to agree with every word Ronan said. To Adam, someone who feared and hated anger his whole life, it was like the world was bending to the emotion, and it was nothing short of beautiful. 

He swallowed on a dry throat. 

“Why were you hanging out with Kavinsky in the first place?”

Adam had never heard Gansey angry. In the few weeks since he'd met him he almost thought it was impossible. The man was angry now. Full of righteous rage and simmering heat.

Ronan continued his stalking. Raw energy melted off him and sizzled on the ground.

“Ronan. Answer me,” Gansey repeated. “Why in god's name were you with Kavinsky?”

Adam recognised the name from Aglionby. Kavinsky had been on plague on the student body. Drugs, fake IDs or speed; Kavinsky could get them for you. Adam had remained mostly under his radar, except one time in the library was Kavinsky had abused him for his secondhand uniform. 

Just words. Just words. Just words. 

Adam still remembered every one sneered at him. 

Adam had avoided him more carefully after that, spending most of his working, studying or hiding. He couldn’t remember much of Ronan and Gansey from school though, just that they were untouchable forces in a two man bubble that no one else could penetrate. He'd only put it together in the car that this was the infamous Ronan Lynch who'd gotten kicked out just before senior year started. Even Adam knew he’d been thrown out for driving a stolen car through the canteen wall over fourth of July weekend. 

In Aglionby, Ronan Lynch was a legend.

Ronan stopped pacing and examined Gansey. “I wasn't with Kavinsky,” he spat. “I was drinking in a bar, that bar.” Ronan pointed to the building behind them like it would nod and declare his innocence as well. “And Kavinsky showed the fuck up like a bad memory.”

“And you walked away?” 

Adam thought he could walk away now and neither of them would notice. They were locked in on each in a well rehearsed fight. He kind of remembered this from school. Remembered talk of Kavinsky being jealous of how much time Ronan spent with Gansey. He wasn't sure what the story was and he kind of wished he'd paid more attention to the gossip. Because there was definitely a story here. Just the mention of Kavinsky had made Gansey so tense it was like he was made of stone. 

Ronan was staring at Gansey, “Eventually.” 

“Goddammit.” Gansey kicked the tire of the car. 

Adam flinched. So did Ronan. Both men noticed the others reaction. 

Gansey did not notice. “Will you ever just grow up?”

“The motherfucker stole my BMW because I wouldn't race him drunk.” Ronan's voice was ice cold. “Don't you think that's me growing up, Dick? Don't you think that's me being responsible? I called Declan.” He stopped talking and threw his hands behind his head, staring at the sky. 

Adam ignored how good Ronan’s arms looked held up like that. He swallowed again. 

All the tension went from Gansey’s shoulders. “Where do you think he took the car?” 

Ronan shrugged, refusing to look at either of them. "It's dad's car, Dick. If that fucker does anything to it..."

The threat hung heavily on the air before it found Gansey and wrapped around his shoulders. 

The parking space that had apparently held the BMW was empty when they'd arrived. The ground around it was littered with business cards; all with Kavinsky’s name and number. _Consultant_ , they read. _Drug dealer_ , Ronan had translated. 

“Why don't we just call him and ask?” Adam said, interrupting the staring match they were now having. 

Both sets of eyes turned to him, looking shocked he was still there. He ignored the desperate feeling of wanting to be inside the bubble. He shrugged, “He left us his number. He clearly wants Lynch to play whatever game he's made up, so why not find out the rules?”

Ronan grinned at him, sharp like a blade. “Parrish has a point. Let's just ring the asshole.”


	10. Goodbye to you, my heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, it took a while. But here it is, new chapter and it has the full gang. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! I wanna make sure I'm getting their interactions as in character as possible but also having them age up a bit with humour and attitude and such.

Ronan sat next to Adam on the hood of the pig and pulled out his phone. The mid morning sun was just getting started, burning off the dew and the damp, leaving a hazy coat over all things. The metal of the car burnt his thighs where he sat. Adam handed him a business card trapped between a thumb and forefinger. When Ronan went to take it, Adam held it for a moment before releasing it, catching his eye with a smirk. Heat pooled in Ronan's stomach and he grinned back. 

Glancing away, Ronan dialled the number. 

While he waited for Kavinsky to pick up, he glanced back to Adam, taking advantage of how the man was staring at the concrete. He was elegantly attractive with fine cheekbones, clever blue eyes and sandy hair. There was oil under the nails of hands Ronan desperately wanted to touch. The loose clothes, a white t-shirt and faded jeans, hid any definition but Ronan suspected there were some muscles hidden beneath the light layers. 

Kavinsky still hadn't picked up. 

Ronan placed his hand carefully next to Adam's on the car, making sure they didn't touch, but that he was close enough to feel the presence of it. A long time had passed since he’d wanted someone. The army was not the most welcoming place for a gay man. _Don't ask don't tell may_ have been abolished, but it's legacy hadn't, and no way Ronan was risking what he’d hoped was going to be a long career for something without a guaranteed commitment. It didn't help that he was only interested in long-term. No one had met up to his standards.

Well, no one except…

He stopped that train of thought with a violent blade. 

Gansey was standing behind them, leaning against the car and staring out at the traffic flowing past. Adam turned his head slightly to watch a lazy breeze spread the business cards across the lot. Ronan swallowed and looked away from the deep concentration on the other man's face. 

Kavinsky still hadn't picked up. 

He hung up and tried again, irritated by the way the phone was making his face sweat. “Man, he's not picking up.” 

Both men turned to look at him. 

“What do you wanna do?” Gansey asked. 

Ronan stared at him.

“It's your car. It's your decision.”

Ronan looked down at the phone, still ringing in his hand. It cut off and went to voicemail _leave a message, shithead_. He threw the phone across the parking lot. 

Gansey sighed and went to pick it up. 

“Have you eaten?” Adam asked suddenly.

Ronan looked over at him. “Not since Friday.”

“It's Sunday.”

He just shrugged in response, not wanting to explain the ongoing nausea he'd had since he'd gotten home. He'd lost weight but he just couldn't find it in himself to care. The only time he remembered to eat was when Noah reminded him to force something down. He could feel Adams eyes on him and tried to keep his face neutral. 

Gansey handed him back his phone. 

“Come on,” Adam said. “We're going to get some food.” 

Nino's was empty when they stepped in out of the heat. Air conditioning cooled the sweat dripping down Ronan's skin. Tacky music leaked over the speakers making his muscles itch. The twanging voice was too close to what Noah used to listen to at night in the desert. He always told Ronan that it calmed him after a day of being shot at. Ronan did not agree, needing heavy bass to relax the ropes around his muscle. 

Something caught the corner of his eye. An image. Noah. It was gone before he even managed to turn. Adam looked at him oddly, and he realised he'd stopped in the middle of the restaurant to whip around. He swallowed and started walking again. 

“You all right?” Adam asked at a whisper. 

Ronan shrugged. He didn't know this guy. He wasn't getting into this with him. “Fine, fuckface.”

Adam rolled his eyes and slid in beside Gansey. 

“If it isn't my favourite person and his two new besties,” Blue greeted them with a smile. She slipped in beside Ronan.

He tried not to tense as she brushed against him. There was no reason for it except it was too much and she was too close. He saw her notice and then ignore it. An intense gratitude rolled over him.

“So what are you three losers doing?” 

The three of them shared a look, but Gansey and Adam waited for him to answer.

“My car was stolen. We're trying to get it back.” 

Blue glanced up at him. The examination was not comfortable. It was like her eyes knew all the dark corners to check. “You know who stole it?”

“Kavinsky,” Ronan spit, knocking over the sugar in frustration. It flowed across the table in a sprint of white. 

“That asshole? Fuck him.”

“Maggot,” Ronan said in approval and held out his fist to her. 

Adam watched them and grinned. “So what now?”

“Well, realistically,” Gansey said. “Kavinsky is passed out somewhere for who knows how long so we have time to kill. We can go back to the original plan of studying in the library.” 

Only he looked pleased with this plan. 

“Gansey, why don't we do that during the week?” Adam said with a smirk. “You're off soon, right?”

Blue nodded, getting up. “You're my last order.”

“So, let's all do something,” Gansey jumped in. “Blue, are you free to join?”

She shrugged, tapping her pen against her notebook. “Sure.” She and Gansey held eye contact for a beat longer than necessary then they both looked away, cheeks red. 

Ronan held in the groan reverberating in his chest. He leaned back in his seat and chewed on his bracelets. He loved Gansey like a brother, but Adam and Blue were new, and spending that much time with people, he wasn't sure he could handle it. He was already twitchy because of his car, could feel all that restless energy starting to pump beneath his skin. He needed a drink. Something to shut off his brain and his heart. God, he needed to switch it all off.  


Ronan lay his head on his arms and shut his eyes. “Whatever, losers. Can we just order some food and then get my fucking car back.”

“Ronan.”

“Please,” he added sarcastically in response to Gansey’s reprimand. “I'll have a beer,” he said, glancing up at Blue. 

“He'll have food too.” Adam smiled up at her in a way that made Ronan hurt somewhere in his gut. 

It was obvious to him Adam was into Blue. Also Gansey was into Blue. Noah would probably be into her as well. Ronan was the only one not into Blue. He rolled his eyes and shifted his head so he could chew his bracelets. This fucking blowed. 

“Meat feast, large,” Gansey interrupted. “No beer. Just soda. None of us are drinking.”

Blue nodded, and looked over at Ronan catching his eye. “Bud or Carlsberg? Or are you more of a craft beer kinda guy?” 

“Jane.” 

“What did you just call me?” The tiny woman turned on Gansey, eyes bright. “Actually, it doesn't matter because that voice doesn't work on me,” she finished. “He's an adult. He can drink beer if he wants to.”

Ronan grinned a sharp shape of approval. “Fucked if I'm going to drink that craft bollix. Just give me a bud.”

Gansey looked between the two. “I don't think this is a good thing.”

Blue grinned. “We have an understanding.” She ruffled Adams head. “You coming to dinner tomorrow night?” 

“Every Monday.” Adam tapped his fingers on the tabletop. He glanced over at Ronan, catching his eye, and looking away again. “Will Persephone be there?” He asked so casually Ronan knew he was hiding something. 

“I'll check,” Blue responded, very careful to not look at either Gansey or Ronan. So definitely something only they knew. “I'm sure she will be though. Anyway. Food. Order. Kitchen. Now.” She left, squeezing Adams shoulder as she did. 

“I'm going to take a piss.” Ronan got up from the table, ignoring Gansey’s muttered _charming_. He and Adam were discussing his PHD before Ronan was three steps away. 

The phone started ringing as he was washing his hands. He stared at the vibrating shape. Kavinsky's name burned up from the screen. One deep breath and he leaned against the sink, answering it. 

“Where's my fucking car, you fucking fucker?” 

“Ronan, baby. Is that anyway to talk to a friend?”

“We're not friends, shithead.” Ronan ignored how his skin crawled at the word _baby_. 

“I told you I was bored,” Kavinsky whined down the phone. “And now I'm less bored,” he cackled. 

The laugh tore pieces out of the tiny bits of sanity Ronan was clinging to. “I want my fucking car back,” he growled down the line. 

“Race me for it.”

Something surged through his veins. “When? Where?”

“Meet me at midnight. You know the stretch of road I lost my mitsubishi to you on our last fourth of July?” 

“The car I crashed into the school and you cried over,” Ronan said with a foul grin. “Yeah, I remember that road. I'll see you at midnight.” 

Kavinsky laughed with a whoop of joy and hung up the phone. Ronan punched the concrete until his knuckles cracked and bled red down the white walls. 

“You should stop that,” Noah said behind him. “You won't be able to drive with a broken hand.” 

Wiping tears from his face, Ronan turned and grinned. It was a painful shape to make. “Do you remember the first time you kissed me?”

“Last day before Christmas break, senior year. I'm pretty sure I was your first kiss.” 

“Dude, you've been my only kiss.”

Noah laughed, “Yeah, I know that. You used too much tongue the first time.” He waggled his eyebrows at Ronan and stuck his tongue out in a poor imitation of a kiss. 

“Thanks, man.” Ronan rolled his eyes, and pressed into the cold ceramic of the sink. Blood was flowing down his wrist and forearm making patterns his eyes couldn't follow. 

“You got better,” Noah grinned. “We should have kissed more.” 

“Yeah, we should have.” Ronan couldn't remember anymore the reasons why they had stopped.

“It was the army,” Noah answered his unasked question. “We couldn't risk. Lifers and all.”

“Seems like such a waste of time now.”

“Nah, man. It doesn't.” 

Noah leaned beside him and Ronan could feel him; the warmth of his skin, the scent of grass and sand, the lean muscles in his arms and the tickle of Noah's hair against his cheek when he leaned his head against Ronan's shoulder. It didn't make sense that Noah wasn't here. He needed him to be here. He needed him so badly, it made every part of him ache.

“I miss it, man,” Ronan muttered. “It was simple. It made sense.” Ronan wasn't sure if he was talking about kissing Noah or the Army. Maybe both.

The silence said all Ronan needed. 

“I better get back to the table.”

Noah was already gone. 

The pizza was already half demolished when he threw himself into the booth. He swallowed the beer in three long gulps. Adam pushed the food towards him, and rolling his eyes, Ronan took a slice. 

“Ronan, your hand.” Gansey dapped a napkin into a glass of water and started washing away the blood. 

Ronan stared at the gentle way his best friend took care of him, blinking away fresh tears. “Kavinsky rang. I'm meeting him tonight.”

Gansey sat up straighter, dropping the napkin into his empty plate, and turned the all-powerful politician gaze on him. “No. You're not.”

Ronan just stared at him. 

“Ronan.”

“Dick.”

“Ronan.”

“Dick.”

“Is this going to take awhile?” Blue asked sitting down. “Because me and Adam can leave.”

Adam barked out a laugh and then glanced up from his food. “Gansey. Like you said, it's Ronan's car. He gets to decide.” 

Everyone stared at Adam. 

Adam stared at Ronan.

Blue cleared her throat. 

Ronan smirked, “Yeah, Dick. It's my car.”

Gansey huffed, falling back into his seat losing his air of proprietary and becoming the boy Ronan loved. Reckless. Burning. Fearless. “Fine, but I'm coming with you.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

“Do you all just wanna lay them out on the table and I'll grab the ruler?” Blue snorted. 

“Bit unhygienic,” Adam responded. 

Ronan laughed. “Midnight it is then.” The thought of racing again made his pulse thrum in the most pleasant way. “So what are we gonna do before then?”


	11. Movement is not just forward motion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me 1500 words to get them out of the pig. Actually no. I'm not. It was fun. 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and bookmarks and kudoes and subscriptions. You are all amazing!!

Ronan was like an argument, Adam thought, resting his head on his hand, and watching the other man casually through the rearview mirror. He was an argument who's words had been spat out, smashed on the hazy, hot concrete and now lay like pieces of glass ready to hurt anyone who got too close. 

And Adam understood.

When you'd been through the crap he suspected Ronan had been through, he got why you'd become unapproachable. He understood scrawling warning signs across your skin.

The problem was Ronan couldn't go on like this. Pain leaked from his every pore. It seeped into the atmosphere around him; a toxic poison choking him every time he drew a breath. Ronan was drowning and the only way he was going to break free of the grasping darkness was to face what was happening.

Adam knew how scary that was. He’d faced his problems, was still facing them everyday. Ronan, with his warning signs and sharp edges, brutal words and anger like a sword, wasn't ready yet.

He understood that too. 

Healing would happen only when he was ready. When Adam needed help, nothing Blue could do or say meant anything. Nothing worked until he was ready to accept change. It would be the same with Ronan. It had to be his decision. Adam could already see the path ahead for sweet, caring Gansey. It involved a lot of arguing and begging and wanting and hoping to try and _fix_ Ronan. But until Ronan wanted to fix himself, nothing would work. 

But then again, Adam thought, the _actual_ real problem was he couldn't stop staring at Ronan. Sometimes it was the peek of a tattoo from his collar, or the sharp bite of his jawline, or his soft lips framing angry words into some sort of poetry. Whatever it was, Adam found his eyes dragged towards the other man again and again and again.

Even he knew he was screwed. 

Currently, Ronan was sprawled across the back seat of the pig as they waited for Blue to clock out and collect her things. His eyes were closed but he was still chewing those five bands. The black tank had risen up slightly, showing a thin line of skin. The pale strip captured Adam's attention again and again and again. He wanted to run a finger across it just to see how the other man would react. Adam pushed the urge away. He knew Ronan less than a day, and sure Gansey talked about him a lot, but this rush of attraction was too much for Adam's carefully laid walls. Still though, he didn't pull his eyes away from him. Like a drunk going for one more gulp. He was taller than Adam, but unlike his lean frame, Ronan was all muscle. Examining him, Adam was reminded of a school trip to a museum years before where all he remembered, aside from long corridors and echoing rooms, were sculptures of Greek Gods. 

It was around that time Adam got his first inkling he might be into guys as well as girls. Mostly because the obsession he’d had with Greek mythology for the following year had little to do with the stories and more to do with the pictures in the books he read. Ronan was the image of sculptured perfection; a God reclining across a dark seat, waiting for someone to bring him grapes to be fed. The sheen of sweat over his skin made him glossy in the sunlight, adding to the illusion. 

Adam casually looked away as Ronan shifted. He felt the other man's eyes on him. Like they were playing some cat and mouse staring game and neither were willing to lose by getting caught first. 

Gansey was pacing the car park on a call to Malory his college supervisor. He sounded very much like someone who would be doing a PHD. He also sounded very rich, Adam thought bitterly listening as the deep Virginia accent was peppered with academic arguments and words even Adam struggled to understand. 

Adam was suddenly very glad Blue was coming with them. She was like him. She'd even the odds on poor versus rich. Privileged versus not so much. 

The leather of the seat squeaked under him as he shifted to get more comfortable in the sweltering car. The driver's door was open but it was doing little to ease the overwhelming heat. He wiped a hand across his forehead, pushing his hair back as he did and glancing into the rearview mirror. 

Ronan looked away as he did. Casually. 

Adam felt the heat of the gaze sliding across his skin. He suppressed a shiver. There was no way this man could be interested in him. No way Adam was going to pursue him. There were too many edges he could cut himself on. He’d spent too long healing to undo the work with a guy who had a very clear _I'm damaged and damaging_ warning built into his every movement. 

Maybe Ronan was a good friend. Gansey thought so, and he trusted Gansey enough to accept the fact, but Adam knew what someone who could take him apart looked like, and Ronan fit the bill perfectly. Handsome. Rich. Angry. Sarcastic. Cruel. As Persephone would say, _self destruction is like getting fat. It's only fun when you doing it. It's stops when you succeed._ Adam had long learned not to lean into his self destructive qualities. Even when sometimes he really, really wanted to. 

He could feel Ronan's eyes on the back of his neck. He shifted, uncomfortable under the weight of the gaze, and cheered silently when he saw Blue leave Nino's. 

Gansey quickly ended the call and waved over, “Jane.”

“Like she wouldn't see his bright orange camaro and his hideous polo,” Ronan muttered. 

Adam caught his eye in the mirror and laughed. Ronan looked so pleased at the sound, Adam’s stomach swooped. Blue pulled open his door before he could investigate the feeling further. 

“I'm not sitting in the back of this death trap so…” She stopped talking and stared expectantly at Adam, hands on her hips, waiting.

“You're joking?” He was moving even as he said it. He knew that face. It was the same one she'd made when he laughed about the pygmy tyrants. It was not a mistake he was planning on making twice. 

The seat groaned as he pulled it back and bent his body into the small space. “Putting the two tallest people in the back while the smallest sits in the front is some power move.”

She collapsed into the seat. “Yeah well, I'm a lady and ladies ride in the front.”

Ronan spluttered with laughter. “A lady? Sure ya are, maggot.”

“Jane,” Gansey said pleased as he got in.

Adam watched as Gansey tried to devour Blue with his eyes as discreetly as possible. Poor Gansey had it bad. Adam considered how he felt about this, but it was hard to be jealous when all he could smell was _Ronan_ and all he could think was if he shifted his hand half an inch they'd be touching. It was also hard to judge him when Adam had been doing the same thing to Ronan two seconds before. He glanced out the window, pushing the urge to examine Ronan again away or worse close the distance and touch him. 

“Is that name going to stick?” Blue asked, less annoyed than Adam thought she’d have been if anyone else has deigned to call her the new nickname. 

“I think so,” Gansey mused. “Blue is just…” he paused to consider his words. “Unsuitable.”

Blue sighed and glanced in the rearview mirror at Adam. He smirked. She returned with a look. It said something like, _what are we doing here?_ He shrugged a _who knows but here we are._

“So where are we going?” Gansey asked to the car. 

“Monmouth,” Ronan mumbled, eyes closed and body sprawled over most of the seat. Somehow he was managing not to touch Adam. The muscles in his legs were tensed, clearly working hard to avoid any contact. 

Maybe Adam was imagining the thing between them. Maybe Ronan had picked up his obvious attraction and was now too embarrassed to even glance off him in a tiny car. Heat flooded his cheeks and he leaned further into the door, resting his forehead against the mostly warm glass. 

“What's Monmouth?” He asked to distract himself from the pulsing embarrassment. He was probably as obvious as Gansey was with Blue. _Oh Lord, the actual shame,_ Calla echoed sarcastically through his brain. Her favourite phrase anytime someone admitted to something worth laughing at. 

“It's where I live,” Gansey answered happily. “Good shout, Ronan.”

Ronan shrugged, eyes still closed. 

“Well, can we go now?” Blue asked. “This car is becoming unbearable.”

Adam knew what she meant. With four of them in it and the sun beating down, Adam was sticky and weak. He swallowed on a dry throat and promised himself to be less obvious. He turned back to the window, avoiding the damp spot his head had already made. The car park was starting to fill up with raven boys, dying for their summer vacation. They were at their worst this time of the year; classes almost done and freedom beckoning on the horizon. He watched them hoot and throw books and rip uniforms and laugh about plans for the holidays. 

He tried to hide how horrified he was at the flagrant waste of money. Really he should have been used to it by now. But even with savings in his bank, a very small amount of safety money after bills and rent and loans and care facilities and general living came out, he still could not bare to see it wasted. 

But small mercies, at least the horror distracted him from the knowledge that he was _as obvious as Gansey._

Gansey flicked on the engine, which caught first time, and blasted the air-con, explaining to Blue how it usually didn't work and how the pig was obviously showing off for her. 

Gansey flirting was a sight to behold. 

Despite his promise made only moments ago, Adam glanced over at Ronan with a smirk.

Ronan was already staring back. 

Monmouth Manufacturing was like nothing Adam had ever seen before. It was a magnificent beast made of metal and dust, abandoned parts and echoing empty space. Adam had rarely loved a place but he loved this one. He knew he would never be this rich. This was _old money_ spending. Buying a factory in high school instead of staying in dorm rooms was just so excessive, he could barely comprehend it, and then just leaving it empty for five years. 

Just in case. 

_Just in case._

“You're catching flies, Parrish.” 

Adam shut his mouth but didn't stop looking around the oversized bottom floor. “This place is… It's just… So very Gansey.”

Ronan looked pleased at his answer. Like he'd passed a test he didn't know he was taking. He’d dragged Adam away from the others when they'd arrived, allowing Gansey to show Blue the upstairs where he actually lived. “What? You don't live in an abandoned factory you bought on a whim?”

“Not quite.”Adam’s eyes searched the expansive space. “The tiny apartment I live in doesn't quite measure up to this.”

Ronan kicked a loose bit of gravel. “Well, give it time and Gansey will have you move in.”

“Because he likes all his things in one place?” 

Ronan sniggered. “Good to know his newest bestest best friend gets him.”

Ignoring the hint of jealousy in Ronan's voice, Adam smirked. “I think I'll stick with St. Agnes.”

Again, Ronan looked pleased at the answer. “You live above the church?” 

Adam nodded, head tilted back as he tried to see the roof stretching above him in the darkness. Every breath tasted musty and ancient. 

“Do you go to mass?”

When he glanced over, Ronan was staring at the ground, hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched over. Making himself smaller. Invisible. Adam recognised the posture. The question was important to Ronan but he was trying to hide that fact. 

“My family were never big on mass. The only one I've been to was my dad's funeral a few months ago.” Adam wasn't sure why he admitted the small fact but for some reason he wanted someone outside his inner circle of Blue and her family to know.

Ronan looked at him with something like horror scrawled across his face. “Shit. Sorry. I didn't know.”

Adam shook his head. “Its fine. He was a bastard anyway.” He ignored the quizzical look Ronan gave him. He wasn't going into anymore details. “Do you go to mass?” 

Ronan scuffed his toe. “I used to. Me and my brother's went every Sunday. And then when I went to military school, my... friend would go with me. He always said he was trying to find the faith, and that he liked to watch me pray-” He paused, and then shook his head, swallowing down whatever words were going to follow that statement.

Adam didn't miss how he stumbled over the word friend, and how he was talking about him in a not so straight way, but he didn't push it. Ronan had let the dad comment slide. “And now? You don't go?”

“Nah man, I've seen hell.” He took in a shaky breath. “No place in heaven for me anymore.”

The pain in his voice hurt something deep in Adam. It was the only explanation he had for his next messy sentence. “If you ever want to go… If you wanted company… I'd go with. I mean I'd know none of the moves, or words but, you know, if you wanted.” Adam stopped stumbling over the words and turned away from Ronan's probing eyes. 

God, he was an idiot. Why had he even offered that? He'd just met the man. Just because he had a crush. Just because he recognised a bit of himself in Ronan. Just because of the pain in Ronan's voice. He rubbed his face and moved back down to the stairs to Ganseys bedroom. 

Ronan fell in step beside him. “Thanks,” he mumbled so quietly Adam almost thought he'd imagined it. Especially when he continued, “Do you think it's safe to go in there or do you think they're doing heteronormative sex things?” 

Adam snorted. “Heteronormative sex things?”

“I've no interest,” Ronan said with a smirk. “No interest in lady parts at all.”

Adam just managed to not trip over his feet. “Yeah? I've found them less than interesting myself on occasion. Always open to the non-lady parts.”

They were walking up the stairs now, Ronan ahead, so he couldn't see what the other man's reaction was, but his heart sped up a little when he replied, “Good to know,” with what Adam was starting to recognise as the voice he used when he was pleased. 

Adam grinned in the dull light. 

“We're coming in,” Ronan shouted through the closed door. “Cover all naked bits.”

“Fuck you, Ronan,” Blue shouted back with a huff of laughter. 

Ronan looked back at Adam with a grin and rolled his eyes. “You ready?” 

Adam nodded and followed him into the room.


	12. Eat. Sleep. Panic. Repeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on putting a chapter up this fast but hey, I managed to write it so why not?!
> 
> The next chapter will be another Ronan chapter with racing and danger and Kavinsky and illegal things. 
> 
> I'll write it as quickly as possible.
> 
> Thanks for all the love *many kissy faces*

Ronan took a seat in the antique leather chair by the desk, soft and dark brown and drooping in the centre, and watched Adam take in the apartment.

The wonder on his face was stupidly sweet and Ronan almost hated him for it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt something as simple and easy as the joy Adam was showing as he walked around, picking up books and examining artifacts, stretching his neck up to look at the high, echoing ceiling and running his fingers over the giant wall of windows. 

“Gansey, this place,” he muttered, eyes wide and an easy grin across his face. “It's magic.”

Ronan thought he would burn worlds and destroy gods if it meant just once that smile was aimed at him.

“Dramatic much,” Noah whispered in his ear. So close and so real, Ronan felt the puff of air on his skin. 

He jolted and hated that Blue noticed, folding her eyebrows in concern. Pushing deeper into the chair, one leg draped over the arm and the other kicked up onto the bed still resting in the centre of the room, he ignored her unasked question and instead chewed the bands on his wrist. He tapped uneasy fingers on the other arm of the chair.

Blue glanced away, answering a question Ronan hadn't heard Gansey ask. 

“Pay attention,” Noah laughed. “They'll probably be a test later.” He wandered off, still chuckling to himself and dropped down in a shadowed corner of the room. 

Ronan swallowed on a dry throat and scrapped the soft leather. It pulled and puckered under his nail. The chair contained a whole world; a history of worry and knowledge and arguments. 

Gansey had stress bought it after he'd been informed by Declan that Ronan had been expelled from Aglionby and would spending his senior year in military school. The long night following that conversation was burned into Ronan's mind. He'd never cared about letting anyone down but watching Gansey cry and apologise for _failing_ Ronan instead of the other way round near broke him. It was the only reason he'd excelled his final year. There was a lot of things he could accept about himself, a lot of failings, but making Gansey cry, _breaking_ Gansey, was something he refused to do again. 

The chair had pride of place by Gansey's desk when he visited for the October midterm. He'd been half in love with Noah at the time and telling no one. Scratched into the rich mahogany under the left leg was his and Gansey’s names. Done one night when they were drunk and reckless and so, so alive. He'd been doing better, had impressed everyone with his grades, and there was something seeping into him that he barely recognised. He was beginning, _oh so slowly_ , to become happy again. He finally felt like he had a place he fit in. 

Military school was harsh and basic with long hours of learning and training drills and being shouted at, and yet, he liked it. There was no mixed signals. No different rules for different people. They all ate the same food. Woke up and slept at the same time. Ran the same miles. Didn't matter if you were rich. Didn't matter if you were loved. Didn't even matter if your dad was dead and your mam too. 

Wake. Run. Eat. Learn. Eat. Train. Eat. Study. Run. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. 

Day in. Day out. 

Turned out all Ronan Lynch needed was some boundaries and structure. To be part of something that _meant_ something. 

It was easy that Halloween break. All he was missing was Noah; a soft gentle ache telling him good things were coming. 

There was a stain on the corner from when he'd come home for Christmas and they'd snuck some red wine out of The Barns. Gansey and him has sat up late and he'd confessed how he was going into the army after high school. All his regiment was. The principal was an retired General and he had the talent and connections to keep students together during basic training. The regiment Ronan had served with was almost sixty percent men he'd gone to school with. Friends from before. All of his friends. Not here with him. Not anymore. 

It still smelt of coffee spilt one late night before Gansey’s final exams for his undergrad. Ronan was about to be deployed for the first time and the only person he'd wanted to see before he left was his best friend. They'd studied. Ronan asking the questions while Gansey panicked about him leaving. Promised he'd return once Gansey passed his exams. 

Lighter burns traced the edges of one corner. He'd been angry and drunk and the chair was there to damage. They'd realised, he and Noah, they couldn't continue whatever it was they were doing. Being in love. Being together. They were career soldiers, wanted the army for life. The relationship had to become a friendship. Nothing more. The adjustment had been easier and more painful than either of them expected. Nothing changed. Not really. They still saw each other every day. Neither of them dated anyone else. They still worked as a unit in the field. Were still best friends. They just had to make sure never to touch each other more than was absolutely necessary; not a friendly pat on the back, not a punch thrown in jest, and never a hug of comfort. 

They'd never kissed again. 

Ronan shifted and started picking at a loose thread under his fingertips. He didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to think about anything except the fact that Kavinsky had his car. Niall Lynch's car. The sound of the string pulling free calmed some of the electricity lighting up his nerves. 

Noah was still in the corner, tapping his fingers against the glass. Ronan looked to the others, but they were chatting on the bed, discussing Gansey's ridiculous history with the building. 

No one else saw Noah. 

No one else saw Noah. 

_No one else saw Noah._

He ripped more thread free and forced in a long, ragged breath through his nose, blinking rapidly as he did. The edges of his eyes went black and he threw his legs onto the hard floor with a thump. 

Everyone looked at him. He couldn't focus on their faces though, swimming with the sudden tears in his eyes. 

“Ronan, show me downstairs, would you?” Blue was in front of him, voice calm like she was talking to a wild animal. 

Ronan nodded, hating that he was so obvious. He stuck his hands in his pockets to hide his shaking hands. 

“We'll come with you, Jane,” Gansey's voice was normal. Like he hadn't noticed anything strange. “I can show you around.”

A very tiny part of Ronan uncoiled. Once Gansey believed he was okay, he could come back from this. He didn't look at Adam. He already knew if he did he'd see recognition there. 

“Please don't.” The laugh sounded normal. “You know you both just want to nerd out over those books, right Adam? Ronan's got me.” She linked her arm with his and gently led him across the floor. Once Adam had pulled Gansey's attention back to Welsh kings she muttered, “Just hold on for a minute.”

He nodded again. 

Noah laughed, “Ha! Damsel in distress much.”

Ronan gasped in another breath, and practically fell down the stairs in his haste to be away from the room. Only Blue’s grip held him steady. When they reached the dusty bottom floor, he staggered away and slammed into a cold concrete wall. He slid down it and buried his head into his knees. 

“Ronan, you need to breathe,” Blue said gently, rubbing her hand up and down his back. It reminded him of how his mother used to comfort him and tears slid down his face. “You're okay. You're okay.” 

She was a warm, unassuming presence and Ronan found himself leaning into her, leeching as much safety as he could find. Slowly his gasping breaths returned to normal and the tears dried in his eyes. He pulled back, wiped his face dry and slumped down onto the floor. It chilled the heat from his bones. Blue sat down next to him. Noah sat on the other side. 

Both took a hand. 

“You should consider counselling,” Blue said.

“I agree with your new friend Blue,” Noah continued. “Tell her I like her name. It's weird but awesome.” 

“Not now.” Ronan replied, not actually sure who he was responding to. 

“Soon?” They both asked at the same time. 

“Soon.” 

The word echoed back to him in the oversized room, and echoed through his mind. Would he get counselling soon? Was he ready to jump off the ledge and dive into the darkness waiting for him? Noah squeezed his hand tighter. 

They sat in silence for another twenty minutes as Ronan waited for his heart rate to return to normal, and for the sweat to dry on his skin. His chest was so tight he couldn't shake the breathlessness. His skin felt like he stayed in a sauna for too long. It clung to thrumming muscles like cling film on a hot Christmas turkey. Even his jaw hurt. He must have been grinding his teeth. 

He hated this. Hated feeling so damaged. Hated feeling so broken. Hated being so alone.

He glanced over at Blue. “Don't tell anyone.”

“Not my secret to tell.”

God. He was suddenly so tired. 

“I need a drink.” 

“You need to sleep,” Blue countered, practically reading his mind. 

Ronan snorted. 

“No, seriously,” Blue insisted. “You need sugar and you need a nap. Panic attacks take a lot of energy. You'll feel better after.” 

“Well, aren't you quite the expert.” The words sounded angry even though he was too tired to actually feel the emotion. “Maggot,” he added as an afterthought. 

She laughed. “Come on.” She stood and pulled him to his feet. Quite the achievement for someone at least a foot smaller than him “We'll tell them you have a headache. Gansey said you used to live here. There'll be a bed for you.” 

“Go for a nap, Ronan.” Noah squeezed his hand. “It'll bring the race here quicker.” 

It was this reasoning that found Ronan back in his room in Monmouth in clean sheets, because Gansey was a loser who had changed his bed in the hope Ronan would move back in, listening to electronica on full blast through a pair of headphones he'd forgotten he'd owned. The room was dark. Noah lay beside feeling as real as he had in their dorm back in military school. Ronan linked their hands together, wishing, wishing, wishing. 

“It's okay you like Adam.” 

“What?”

“It's good actually. You don't have to feel guilty.”

“I don't…”

“Shut up, man. Me and you, we ended a long time ago. We're friends now. We have been for a long time.” Noah fingers were warm in his cold ones. “It’s okay to like someone else.”

“I don't…”

You don't lie to anyone else. No point lying to yourself.” 

Ronan swallowed and gripped Noah's hand tighter. “I don't know how to do this without you.”

“Take it one day at a time, and if that's too much, one hour at a time, and if that's too much, one minute, one second. Survive it. Move into the next one. Remember what Sargent Riggs used to say?”

“Survive the mission in front of you. Worry tomorrow about tomorrow's mission.” 

Noah leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Let me go, Ronan. Get the counselling. Survive.” He wiped a tear off Ronan's face. “That's the new mission. And tomorrow when that's done, kiss Adam. He's hot.”

Ronan let out a puff of laughter. 

“Go to sleep man. I'll be right here when you wake up.” 

He fell asleep with Noah's breath on his neck.

When he woke up the room was empty. 

He turned onto his side, slipping his headphones around his neck and checked the time on his phone. There was a message from Kavinsky staring at him. _Can't wait to see you shithead._ He didn't bother reading it past his home screen. Didn't bother replying. He could hear the other three laughing outside. Even through his sleep addled brain, he could feel the sting of anticipation for the race. All he wanted was that push of speed, the adrenaline of a car moving too fast, and the roar of an engine. He kicked his sheet off, sat up and rested his head in his hands. 

Anger burned hot and steady in his gut. 

Noah wasn't here. The army had kicked him out. Kavinsky had stolen his car. He was pretty certain his brain was broken. 

Tonight though, he got to put all of that away. 

Tonight, he got to do the one thing he still loved more than anything. 

Tonight, he got to race.


	13. How long is a day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I may not have gotten to the race. I'm sorry, I got distracted by Ronan and Adam and flirting and talking, and let's be honest, it's what we're all here for. 
> 
> I promise there will be racing in the next chapter. Much racing. Many speeds.
> 
> Also I like to think if given the chance Adam would have stepped aside for Gansey and Blue. I like to think. 
> 
> Also also Matthew! And an explanation because I keep making Ronan use his phone.

Ronan sat on the hood of the pig, watching the clock on his phone count down the many minutes until he got to race. The night sky was pitch black, devoid of stars. Streetlights glowed orange over the road, highlighting the few cars still out this late. Probably going to the substance party. Ronan burned with the need to be near his car again. It’d only been twenty four hours, but the thought of Kavinsky touching it, made him want to punch something. Everything. All things.

The clock ticked forward another minute.Cicadas sang around the empty lot. Wind rustled the tall grass growing through the cracks in the cement and along the walls of Monmouth. The hood of the pig was still warm from the sun setting half an hour ago. Summer made the days a long and arduous process of survival. There were hours of daylight to fill, spilling across the horizon like orange juice at four am and continuing right up until it was wiped away at half ten. 

Ronan thought maybe this was one of the longest days of his life. 

Gansey had refused to give him the keys to the pig. Had given him a look that said _do you really still think I'm ever going to trust you with my pride and joy?_

Ronan hadn't bothered to respond. 

The one time he had _borrowed it_ had been without permission. Gansey had tried to explain so many times since that meant he'd _stolen it_. Ronan disagreed but even his moral high ground had a hard time not calling that a lie. He'd used it to race Kavinsky. The crash had not been pretty, had been near the end of his self destruction cycle. Just weeks before he was expelled. It had cost him nearly ten grand to get it back to what Gansey had loved. Another part of his legacy he loathe to remember. 

He wasn't that kid anymore. Sometimes Gansey looked at him like ten years hadn't past since he was seventeen and an irresponsible idiot. Now he was an irresponsible idiot who'd fought in a war and one who wouldn't steal his best friend's car.

Probably. Maybe. 

He smirked; Gansey was probably fucking right not to give him the keys. 

Another text from Kavinsky came in; more shit about wanting to see him but this time with a picture of him in the BMW. Sprawled across the driver's seat, one foot in the car and one out, arm resting against the steering wheel. Someone else had taken the photo. Kavinsky smiled up at him, giving him the finger. 

Ronan swallowed away the urge to throw his phone at the wall. The black box was still his most hated possession but he’d come to accept the necessity of it. It had given him the ability to stay in touch with the real world when he was buried in sand. It meant Noah got to be introduced to his nieces day after they were born. One of his regiment watched a video of his brother's proposal, and another got to see his toddlers first step and word. 

With his phone, controlled in the army like they were preteens discovering texting, he got to hold onto a tiny part of himself. Watch boxing matches or listen to EDM, watch illegal street races or read Latin texts. It was a reluctant friend now. One he could ditch at anytime; a thought that always made him more comfortable when he answered a text or picked up call. 

A video came through from Kavinsky; someone filming him doing donuts in the BMW. He was in the wrong gear and the cry of the engine made Ronan's skin crawl. He typed one quick message, _I'm going to kill you,_ and then thumbing through his contacts, he found Matthew's number, and without thinking about it, pressed the call button. 

“Ronan.” Matthew's happy voice lifted the darkness just a little. “You called! Are you okay?’

“Yeah, man. I'm good.” The pain in his shoulder was suddenly a laser beam straight through bone and tendon. He switched hands and tried to roll the ache away. “I'm home.”

Matthew was silent for a moment, and then he squealed. “Oh my god, Ronan. Since when?” 

“A while. A few weeks.”

“Oh.”

The hurt in Matthew's voice twinged an old ache; an argument of leaving and staying, joining and quitting. “I'm sorry man. I just… I needed some time.” 

A red car drove past achingly slow as he waited for Matthew to respond. Ronan could never understand driving below the speed limit. He could hear his brother breathing, practically hear the gears turning in his head as he processed the information. 

Matthew sighed, but when he spoke the usual cheer was back in his voice, “Well, look, that's okay. I'm sure you had your reasons.”

Ronan swallowed down sudden, grateful tears. He loved his little brother. 

“So when do I get to see you?” Matthew asked, and Ronan heard the rustle of paper. He wondered if his brother was studying. Finals, maybe. “Soon, right?”

“Anytime you want. I'm not working.” 

“Really? Tomorrow? This week?” 

“Don't you have college?” 

“I'll ditch.”

“Declan would love that.”

Matthew laughed, and then kept laughing. “Okay, this weekend?” 

Ronan felt like the sound was washing away the worst of the pain. “Let's all get together next week. See if Declan is free too.”

“Seriously? Brilliant. Okay, I'll check with him and then we'll all hang out.”

“Okay, man.”

“Ronan?”

“Yeah?” 

Matthew's voice was smaller when he asked, “You okay?”

Ronan ran a hand down his face, wiping away tears and sweat. “I'm okay, man. I'm… I'm getting there.” 

“Thanks for calling me. I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” Ronan coughed, clearing the tears lodged as sharp and cutting as a diamond. “I'll call you during the week.”

Matthew laughed, “You'll call me? Brilliant. New improved Ronan.”

Laughing Ronan said his goodbyes and hung up, feeling like a weight was gone. He would get to see Matthew next week. Declan too. Seeing his brothers. Being apart of the family again. He could do that, and when he did, he would prove he didn't need counselling. Just time to heal. 

Noah's laugh echoed from somewhere in the parking lot but he didn't appear. 

The door to Monmouth closed gently and Ronan glanced over. Adam was looking for him across the dark tarmac. He waved a small shape when he caught Ronan's gaze, but waited by the door until he was nodded over. Ronan had to appreciate the fact the other man respected boundaries. 

He still glared at him when he walked over, and smiled a grin shaped like a shard of glass slicing across skin. “Dick send you down to check I hadn't stolen his fucking car?”

Adam examined him before sitting on the hood beside him. “Gansey couldn't care less about his car right now. Not with Blue telling him stories about Maura's hitman boyfriend.”

“Hitman boyfriend?”

“Not as interesting as it sounds.” Adam shrugged. 

He liked how his vowels elongated every word until they shivered up Ronan's spine. 

“He's a lawyer,” Adam continued, unaware of the effect his accent was having on Ronan's heartbeat. “They just call him The Hitman. Only goes for assholes and never loses a case. Helped me with my…” He stopped abruptly. “Anyway, Gansey and Blue were getting suffocating.” 

Ronan smirked. “Jealous?”

Adam laughed so much he slipped off down the car, “Pick up on that, eh?” He shook his head at some in-joke Ronan wasn't privy to.

Ronan suddenly wanted to be privy to all the intimate parts of Adam's life, including stupid in-jokes. “You look at her like she going to save your life.” 

“She already saved my life,” Adam answered quietly, all jest gone from his voice. He glanced at him as if expecting to be asked for more information. When Ronan didn't, he said, “But you're wrong anyway. Me and Blue are ancient history.” Adam smiled. “And I don't wanna cockblock her, you know? Not if they like each other.”

Ronan nodded, but didn't really agree. He knew what it felt like to have someone save your life; Gansey had saved his when they were younger, _many times_ , but he would still happily cockblock Gansey if it meant he got to watch his face turn the hilarious shade of purple it did sometimes. “So you're bi?” The words were spat out without thought. Just a desperate need to be sure he hadn't misunderstood the conversation on the stairs. 

Adam stiffened beside him. “Is that a problem?”

“Why'd it be a fucking problem?”

“I dunno, people can be…” he trailed off. 

“Shitheads.” 

Adam huffed out a laugh. “Exactly.”

“Nah, man. I don't fucking care.” He looked down at his phone. Twenty minutes and they could leave. “You work in Boyd's, right? What's that like?” Changing the subject seemed safer than following that line of questioning. Something about Adam made him _want_ in a way he hadn't since Noah, and he was in no rush to discover more of that feeling. Right now, with his head messed up, he just wanted to enjoy the simplicity of Adam sitting beside him. 

Warm. Real. Alive. Here. 

No bombs. No guns. No sand. 

Adam looked pleased Ronan remembered the tiny fact. “Loud. Boring.” Adam shrugged. “Pays the bills.”

“That enough for you?” It came across as a challenge.

It took Adam a minute to answer and Ronan could see him weighing the pros and cons of his words in his head. “I wanna built an alarm for kids…” He paused and glanced at Ronan. Swallowing, he continued, “Sometimes they can't reach their phone, or they don't have a phone, I want to build something like a piece of jewellery that connects them to the police, or maybe an adult. Someone to come get them when they're in danger or need help or are scared. I dunno, it's impractical with the limitations of social care workers, and cuts to police departments budgets, and if an adult knew already you'd assume they'd have removed the child. I dunno. Just something for when kids are in danger... ” He trailed off again.

Ronan asked the next question very carefully, making sure not to look at Adam when he did. “Why'd they be in danger?” 

“Because people are shitheads,” Adam responded in a voice void of emotion. 

“Yeah, man. They are.” 

Silence fell on them. Not uncomfortable enough for Ronan to feel the need to break it, but not exactly comfortable. Adam's truth lay between them unexamined. Another car drove past. Black this time. Not driving the speed limit. 

Ronan's heart vibrated at the sight. 

He was so close to doing that. The alarm went off on his phone; a screeching noise making him flinch. “Time to go.”

“I'll get the others,” Adam answered, pushing off the pig. 

“You're coming?”

“Friends don't let friends race alone.”

“We're fucking friends now, are we?”

“I think we have to be.” Adam grinned. “Gansey decreed it or something.”

Ronan laughed. “You really do get him, don't ya?”

Adam shrugged. “It's you I don't get. Not yet.”  
There was a promise in those words, making Ronan duck his head and blush. “Don't worry though. I'll figure it out.”


	14. Fast. Faster. Fastest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left it on quite a cliffhanger so hahahaha. It's just because I'm mean.
> 
> Hope you enjoy the raging testosterone and anger. 
> 
> Comments as always make my life so thank you thank you thank you *kissy faces*
> 
> (Also my brain is forgetting things like grammar and sentence formation due to tiredness so there may be more mistakes then I usually make *more kissy faces*)

The strip of road where they were meeting wasn't just a road. It led into an abandoned lot, not dissimilar to Monmouth except the warehouse had burned down a few years ago at a different substance party. So long ago it was before Ronan had even started in Aglionby. All that remained was a rusted skeleton glinting in the moonlight, encased with broken black walls. They stuck up from the ground, jagged and biting like a monster eating it's way out of the earth. Fires burned in trash cans around the lot, throwing deep shadows ready to swallow anyone who wandered too far from the party.

The BMW sat in the middle of it all. Surrounded by muscle cars and shining in their headlights, it looked showroom fancy and ready to buy. Men with thick muscles and dark clothes leaned against it casually, resting bottles on the roof and knocking cigarette ash off its windows. Ronan assumed they were meant to discourage him from just _taking_ it back but the sight of them touching his car made him want to fight every single one of them until his fists were broken and bleeding. 

Booming bass cut the air and made loose gravel shudder along the ground in uneven dance. Conversation and shouts and laughter rose up above it; a canopy of noise echoing against the broken brick and cars. Weed and tobacco, perfume and aftershave permeated the air drowning out the scent of the heated summer air. 

Ronan took a long breath, just taking it all in. He could feel Gansey watching him wearily, knew this was the last place his friend wanted him to be, but this was _everything_ Ronan hadn't realised he was missing, and he suddenly knew with absolute clarity, when he died, this was exactly where he expected to spend eternity. 

This place that was the perfect mix of heaven and hell.

It had everything he needed to slice apart his destructive little heart, mixed with goblins and monsters ready to eat him up. Just in case he couldn't finish the job himself. He took a long inhale, grounding himself in the moment, throwing off the scars he was carrying like a heavy cloak. Let them burn with the rest of him.

He walked over to Kavinsky, obvious in the shifting light by his lazy form resting on the hood of his car smoking. The glowing tip lit up his eyes red, reminding Ronan he was one of the monsters ready to gobble him up. Ronan wasn't sure, now that he was here, if he didn't want that to happen. He felt more electric right now, more present in his skin, than he’d felt since he was shot. This was what being alive meant and he never wanted the feeling to end. 

“Ronan, my man.” Kavinsky's nasal tones grated on his already frayed nerves. He stood and examined Ronan as he approached. “You came and you brought the whole family.”

Ronan walked straight up to him, stopping only when his chest hit Kavinsky's. “You didn't give me much fucking choice, did ya?” 

Kavinsky leaned into the touch, breath hot and rancid on Ronan's cheek. “If this is your attempt at intimidation, it explains why we're losing the war.”

“Give him the car, Kavinsky.” Gansey's voice rang out across the lot, terrible and dangerous. Everything Ronan needed in the moment; wild Gansey burning with him. 

“Is that what you want?” He leaned into Ronan's face, running his lips up his neck and across his earlobe. “Do you just want your car back?”

Ronan forced down the shudder, fisted his hands and released them. He pulled back less that half a step, staring Kavinsky in the eyes. “Give me my fucking car so I can race you. Prove to you once and for all who's the better driver.” He leaned in, lips touching Kavinsky's ear and he felt the other man stiffen and freeze. “If you did anything to my car, fuckface, it won't be the wall of a school I'm driving through this time. It'll be your fucking face.”

Kavinsky's laugh echoed over the bumping bass and he stepped back, fingers trailing down Ronan's chest as he did. “Ladies and gentlemen, shitheads and fuckfaces, I have the pleasure of welcoming back for one night only, the infamous, the dangerous, the articulate Ronan Lynch.” 

Silence fell across the party. 

All eyes were on him and he was a violent storm waiting to destroy them. Jagged, cruel and fighting; he'd slipped into his younger skin like a homecoming. He revelled in it, turning to glance back at Gansey. Gansey was burning right there with him. Even Blue stood like a five foot witch who'd been told she was guilty and only fire awaited her. Except she looked gleeful and amused that they thought she was going to come easy. With that one glance, he knew magic was real and she would destroy anyone who touched them. 

Adam was not on fire but it didn't make him any less dangerous. He was a black hole. He was the eye in the middle of the storm. He was a safe place, lying. Something glinted in his eyes, the reflection of the fire and the headlights, looking like a magician ready to go to war. He quirked an eyebrow at him, a language Ronan was not yet fluent in, but one that Adam looked like he was willing to teach.

Ronan swallowed back a grin. 

When he looked back, Kavinsky was staring between them. Ronan stepped in front of Adam, and ignored how Kavinsky's lips pulled into a thin white line. “Are we racing or are we having a fucking picnic?” 

Kavinsky licked his lips, examining Ronan with eyes that tried to slip beneath his clothes. “I thought we'd come to dance, but yeah sure, let's race.” He stepped back and whistled through his teeth. “Who's your second?”

“Seriously man?” Ronan rolled his eyes. “You wanna do fucking seconds?”

Kavinsky shrugged. “Mine’s Prokopenko.” 

“Oh fuck you, and his tiny fucking ass. Fine. Mine’s Blue.” 

Kavinsky sniggered and rolled his eyes, imitating and exaggerating Ronan's gesture. “Whoever you _want_ , man.” 

Blue didn't hesitate before stepping beside him. He ignored the noise of protest from Gansey and Adam. So did Blue. 

“Are we doing this, Gentleman?” Blue asked, voice dripping acid. “Or do you want to put them on the hood and I'll get my ruler?”

 _Ohhhhhs_ and _burn_ rang out among the crowd.

Ronan just grinned violent at the familiar joke; the same one she'd thrown at him and Gansey the first time they'd met her. 

When no one replied, Blue sighed. “Let's just go.” 

He walked towards his car, rolling his keys between his fingers. The window on the driver's side was smashed in, glass resting on the seat and floor around his pedals. Ronan slammed his hand into the roof and turned on Kavinsky. “You cheap ass son of a bitch. If I see you after tonight, I swear to motherfucking God, I will beat you to an inch of your goddamn worthless piece of shit life.” 

“Language, Lynch,” Kavinsky drawled. “Not in front of the ladies.” 

Blue have him the finger and got into the BMW. “Fuck him, Ronan. Let's just get this over with.”

“Whatever you say, maggot.” Ronan grinned sharp and dangerous. “Whatever you fucking say.”

Gansey caught up to them at the car, “Are you okay?” He asked, gripping Ronan's elbow. 

“Yeah man, we'll meet you back at Monmouth.” 

Adam and Blue were having their own private conversation on the other side of the car. 

“Please be careful.” Desperation laced Gansey’s tone. 

They both knew the last time he’d raced he'd ended up crashing the car and getting expelled. Not the best memory for either of them. 

“I'll be okay, Gansey. I promise.” 

Gansey smiled something weak and gave him a tight hug. 

Kavinsky wolf-whistled. “Time to go, lovers. Trying to make the rest of us jealous?”

More hoots and whistles rang out. Ronan tensed and kicked the ground hard. “Alright then shithead, let's get this done.” The car smelt like cigarettes and the cheap aftershave Kavinsky wore when he climbed in. Ronan clamped his lips shut. 

“What's a second?” Blue asked as she buckled her seatbelt.

“Even out the weight of the car. It a bullshit move. He was testing me. Wanted to see who I'd pick.”

“Who'd he think you'd pick?”

Ronan smirked. “You maggot. Obviously.” 

Blue snorted, disbelieving. “So, you’re a good driver, right? Because my mam will kill me if I die.” 

He turned the key in response and the BMW roared to life, vibrating through the car.

Blue laughed. “That's not really an answer.” She shook her head. “I cannot believe I got into a car with a stranger who has PTSD and maybe a death wish.”

“Please.” Ronan laughed a harsh noise. “I don't wanna die. Didn't survive the war to die because of this scumbag.” He screeched up to the starting line and grinned snake like at her. “Anyway Blue, heart attacks are fun. Just enjoy the rush.”

The white mitsubishi pulled up alongside them, window rolled and Kavinsky staring out. “Lynch, what do I get if I win?” He licked his lips, eyes searching across Ronan's bare arm leaning on his open window. 

“You get me not beating the shit outta you for stealing my car.”

“Least I didn't crash it through a fucking wall.”

“Still bitter about that?” 

Kavinsky laughed. “Not so much. Today's the first day that I haven't been bored in so fucking long. Either way Lynch, win or lose, we'll have to do it again. Soon.”

Ronan didn't miss the threat his words carried as the window rolled up. “Fuck you, asshole.” He turned his attention back to the road. “Fuck you.”

The white flag dropped and Ronan hit the gas, burning down the road. Blue screamed beside him, a blast of joy hitting him right in the chest. A flash of white caught up to them, but then Ronan was switching from third to forth and Kavinsky missed the gear and it was all just open road and speed and Blue cheering beside him and joy and release and being alive. 

He only slowed when the red and blue lights flashed in his rearview mirror and a siren rang through the night air ordering him to stop.


	15. Sir, your feelings are showing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously if Ronan _did_ text, he'd be the most annoying meme, gif and emoji txter ever. 
> 
> I don't have much going on apparently so Friday night update yayayayay!!
> 
> Feelings. All the feelings. 
> 
> And now with more ANGST. 
> 
> Kudos and comments make my life. Thanks you for all of them. *kissy faces*

Monmouth was an imposing presence; a dark shadow eating up the horizon. Stars littered the sky around it, drops of light kissing across the navy. Adam stepped from the pig, inhaling the warm air scented like flowers.

Seeing Ronan drive had been something else.  
Something he wasn't even going to try and define. Something he wasn't even going to look at. He pushed the feeling away and followed Gansey into the building. The smell of the room reminded him of his college library. Books layered every surface. Adam was hit by his deep love for the building again. It made him feel like magic could be real, and he so wanted to discover more of it. 

They'd only been back at Monmouth for an hour when Gansey’s phone rang. Adam had been distracting him with talk of his PHD and different locations they could scout, watching the other man get more and more agitated. Even he was starting to get worried as the minutes ticked by. 

“Where?” Gansey's was incredulous; a look that suited him with his wire frames and messy hair. “And why exactly did you talk back to the policeman?” 

Adam glanced sharply at Gansey. 

“Yes, Ronan. I'll be down now. Blue called who?” Gansey was pacing now. “Why does she have a lawyer on retainer?”

Now Adam was starting to get worried. Why had Blue called in Dean? And had Gansey said Ronan had backtalked a policeman? 

Gansey waved at him as he grabbed the keys to the pig, “Yes we're on the way. No I will not bring you a snack.”

“They got arrested?” 

“They weren't going to get arrested, they were going to get away with a warning, and then Ronan decided that backtalking the cop was an absolute necessity.”

“Is he an idiot or…”

Gansey laughed. “He's something alright.”

By the time they got to the station, Ronan and Blue were already signing their realise forms. Dean, Maura's boyfriend of nine years and Blues unofficial-official stepdad, stood behind them in a grey suit and grey tie, looking oddly pristine for two in the morning. Only the muss at the back of his grey hair belied the late hour. 

“Blue, what happened?” 

Blue turned to Adam with a smile. “This idiot thought back-answering a cop was the way to get us off speeding charges.”

Ronan snorted, “Worth it.”

“He was literally giving us a ticket.” She pushed him. “Loser.”

Dean had a quiet chat with the officer signing them out, and turned, clearing his throat, “As much as I enjoy challenging my professional expertise, this late at night is not the time.” He grinned at Adam. “I think we should all head home and forget about street racing for a very long time.”

Ronan snorted again and Blue shoved him. 

“Thank you ever so much for getting us off.” The sarcasm dripping from Ronan's tongue was poison. 

And yet, Dean smiled. “I'd say anytime but I hope never again. Home?” He asked Blue. 

She nodded. “Night, losers.”

They left and the three men stood under the blinking artificial lights. Posters covered the walls warning about speeding and drugs and underate alcohol. The blue paint was peeling and the stuffing on most of the seats was falling out. The lino was scratched and folding at the corners. It smelled dirty. Adam hated it. 

“They fucking impounded my fucking car.” 

Gansey laughed, clear and delicate like water over ice. “You can stay in Monmouth. I'm not driving out to The Barns now. We'll pick it up in the morning. Adam, we'll drive you home?”

“Please.” He stifled a yawn. “I'm up for work in four hours.”

Ronan was already at the door, waving them over. “Let's go. Let's go. I'm fucking bored of this shithole.”

The officer at the desk glanced up with a frown.  
“Sir, some respect.”

Ronan was already gone, Gansey following and apologising at the same time. Adam glanced back with no remorse in his face. Not once had the police helped him. Not one time. Even after his father had deafened him and forced him to move out. He had no one to protect him. No one to call. No one to fight for him. They'd always taken his parents side. The officer was staring at him. He showed himself out. 

The trip home was silent. Ronan sat in the back, sprawled across the seat, eyes closed and face set like stone. Adam was starting to realise Ronan did not sit; he slouched or leaned or sprawled or draped. Sitting was too normal for him, too safe. Ronan, Adam was learning, was a contrary little fuck. 

Gansey was sulking. That was all Adam could call it. He sat up straight, hands at ten and two, staring intently at the road. Except when he rubbed his lip with his thumb or ran his hand through his already messy hair. He looked like he'd been electrified. Repeatedly. He kept opening his mouth as if to say something, would glance at Adam, and then at Ronan in his rearview mirror, and would close his mouth again. 

The roads were empty and dark. Cool wind blew in from Adam's open window making goosebumps skid along his arms. He leaned one arm against the half open glass and rested his head on it. Tiredness was clawing at him in a way that he hadn't felt since high school. 

A light nudge woke him and he scrambled awake, shifting back in his seat. 

“Sorry. We're here.” 

He blinked and it was just Gansey tapping his shoulder gently. For a second in the dark, it looked like… he shook his head clear and forced himself to smile. “Sorry man, must have fallen asleep. I'll eh… see you during the week.”

“Perfect.” Gansey was himself again; collected and calm. “I'll call you.” 

“Thanks for dropping me home. I'll see you during the week.” He repeated, disoriented. He glanced back but Ronan's eyes were still closed. “Night, Lynch,” he said anyway. 

Ronan just grunted. 

The apartment was lonely, sparse and pathetic after the grandeur of Monmouth. It took him a long time to get back to sleep. 

The week passed in a blur of work, and visits to his mam, and sleep. Gansey called at least once a day with some new discovery or interesting fact. Blue called to let him know she was working doubles for the week so she wouldn't be about; apparently she was avoiding Maura who was pissed and refused to show it since _she was an adult who made her own mistakes but still needed her mother's boyfriend to clean up her messes but she wasn't saying a word, oh no._ Blue had quoted him the conversation as she walked to work on Monday morning. He'd laughed as he navigated the roads to work, promising to call in and have dinner with her one of the evenings. 

Gansey asked him to hang out a few times, and it wasn't that he was avoiding him, it was that he was avoiding the weird feelings he'd been having for Ronan, so he claimed he was busy. He sort of was since he was making up for barely seeing his mother the week before. 

It was just the walls he’d built were there for a reason. Attraction, and worse, feelings, were not welcome behind his barriers. Even in college none of his relationships had lasted past six months, and none of them had really meant anything. Sure he'd like the people he'd dated, and he'd definitely had some fun with them, but they was a wall of glass between him and them, and he liked it that way. 

Ronan was something altogether different. Not just because he was the prettiest man Adam had ever seen. Not just because the barb wire and electrical fences wrapped around his skin called Adam closer instead of pushing him away. It was that Adam said things to him; no self editing or careful consideration of the words he used. He'd never mentioned his past before, not even in the passing way he'd talked to Ronan about it. He'd definitely never mentioned the alarm idea. Every time he thought about Ronan, his stomach clenched in the most pleasant way. 

Adam hated it. 

He couldn't afford to lose control. He wasn't even sure he believed in love, or maybe he wasn't sure if he could love. No one had ever shown him how. Blue and her family had tried but it wasn't quite right. He was always afraid it was mixed with pity and so he held back. Not that he loved Ronan. It was just, late at night, when he was tired and his walls had dropped just a little, he thought maybe it'd be nice to try. But his life had already been sidetracked with his dad's death and his mom's illness. He had a plan. There was a destination; career and money and a real place to live. Then, after he achieved those things, he might find a person. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. 

Ronan was a complication he could do without. 

Avoidance was key. 

On Thursday evening, he went to the nursing home and sat by his mother's bed as she told him delirious story after delirious story. The nurse had explained to him it'd get like this. The painkillers were so strong now, they were starting to mess with her mind. He wiped away tears he refused to admit he was crying and readjusted himself on the hard seat. 

“Robert,” she whispered, staring at him. “Robert, you came to visit.”

The contents of Adam's stomach hit the back of his throat. He forced them back down. “No, Mam. It's…”

“Robert, you have to be nicer to our boy. I know he hits your last nerve, he does mine too, but he's only small.” 

Adam stared at her broken lips, her pale, gaunt skin and the lines like worn leather around her eyes. Her hair was all but gone from the chemo. The few wispy bits clung to the side of her head from the heat of the building. He couldn't talk. He couldn't even feel. This was everything he never wanted to think about ever again. 

“Robert, I do love you, you know that, right?”

Adam just nodded, hands clutching his ribs as if he could hold himself together through pure force of will. 

“You'll visit again?” 

Adam stood. The chair slammed back and collided with the wall. The sound echoed through the room. They both winced. 

“Don't be mad.” His mams claw like hand reached for him, skin papery soft and flaky. “Please, Robert. Don't be mad at me.”

He pulled his hand back and stumbled for the door. “I gotta go.”

Screaming sobs, apologies and his father's name followed him from the building. He only broke when he was behind the steering wheel. Tears clawed at him like her hands had, persistent but weak. He had nothing to cry for either of them, and minimal for himself. The few drops he’d left barely wet his cheeks. The last pieces of his heart had died a long time ago, and the bits he'd managed to revive had shriveled up at his father's name. He slammed his hands into the hard leather again and again until they throbbed. 

When his breathing returned to normal, and his face was dry, he turned on the engine and drove away. 

He was fine. He was fine. He was fine. 

Nothing was fine. 

Blue hugged him before he said a word. He knew there was something wrong with his face but he didn't think anyone else would see it. 

“I'm taking my fifteen,” she said to a passing manager who looked frazzled and overheated. 

“Seriously? We're jammed.” 

Blue just tsked. “I've been on since nine this morning and I haven't had a break so I'm taking my fifteen.” 

The woman stared at her like she was going to disagree and then just nodded. “Fine, grab some food from the kitchen.” 

“I'll meet you out back.” She was already pushing him to the door. 

Adam went easily, pliant and weak. The back was an alley, ground covered with litter and walls thick with graffiti. Blue and him had spent many nights here hiding from Aglionby boys and customers while dreaming of escape. He couldn't believe he was back here. He sat on the steps leading up to Nino's kitchen and leant his head against the warm wall. 

“Rough night?” Blue asked when she sat down next to him, handing him a slice of pizza and pulling a can of coke from her pocket. 

He nodded. When he took a bite, it tasted like sawdust. “Thanks.”

She sat beside him, not asking for more than he was able to give. When they finished eating and her fifteen minutes were up, she pulled him up and hugged him. “Make an appointment with Persephone, okay?” 

He nodded again. 

“Call me if you need anything.” 

He hugged her again, pulling whatever comfort he could steal. When she left, the door slamming behind her, he stood in the alley alone for a few minutes before turning and going home to his empty apartment. 

He was so sick of being alone. 

He tossed and turned for a few minutes before he thought to do something about it. He could stay unknown and unknowable, or he could take a chance. The people he'd known in college had barely called him in the few months they'd been finished. Hadn't wondered why he hadn't made graduation. Barely blinked when he'd cancelled the road trip. This week he'd spoken to Gansey and Blue every day. Even Ronan had text him once, a simple _thanks for breaking me out of the big house._ Adam had laughed and replied _anytime, Lynch._ They hadn't spoken again, but when he mentioned it casually to Gansey, the other man had been shocked and pleased, _Ronan doesn't text. He must like you._

Persephone had told him a long time ago that his walls weren't just protecting him; they were imprisoning him. He'd laughed at the time because better safe in a prison than in danger out in the wild. 

Now though, he wasn't so sure.

His dad was dead. His mam was following him into the grave. He was soon to be the only Parrish left. Something cruel in him stretched out in lazy delight at that but he pushed it back down. If he ever found a person, he would take their name. Lose this rock around his neck. 

Thumping the pillows, muttering _fuck it_ , he grabbed his phone from the upside down bin masquerading as a bedside table and created a group in WhatsApp. He called it _losers_ and hoped they'd find it funny. 

“Anyone about tomorrow night? Being Friday and all, I thought drinks were in order.”

Gansey replied with a thumbs up and a smiley face. 

“I'm off work at eight. What are you thinking?” Blue asked, followed by three skulls. 

“Not that,” Adam responded. “ Just drinks and food. Something to celebrate the end of another exciting work week.” 

_Ronan is typing… … …._

“You can come here.” Ronan said. “I'll make burgers. We can light a fire. I've 8000 beds.”

“You can cook?” Blue asked. 

“Like a fucking chef, maggot.”

“He's nearly given me food poisoning twice.”

“How'd you know that wasn't on purpose, Dick?”

“I've an important PHD call at six I can't miss so Blue I could pick you up from work at eight?” Gansey asked, ignoring the GIFs Ronan was sending of dancing penises. “Adam, what time are you off?”

“Four on a Friday.” Adam replied, laughing at the spamming Ronan was now doing. GIFs, memes and smiley faces interrupted the conversation. 

Stopping the stream of images, Ronan typed, “Alright then Parrish, I'll pick you up from Boyd's and we can get the BBQ stuff and beers. By the time the others arrive, we'll have laced their burgers with poison.” 

Adam ignored the thrill at four whole hours alone with Ronan. “Can I shower in yours? I'll stink after work.”

“You can even have clean towels. Like a fucking hotel.” 

_Gansey is typing… … …_

“So it's decided. Great idea Adam. Gotta go organise the talking points for my call tomorrow. Night all.” 

“Fucking loser. Night,” Ronan replied.

Blue sent a sleeping emoji. 

“See ya tomorrow.” Adam typed and fell onto his back, feeling a little less unknowable.


	16. Sweet things for bitter words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter; discussion of canon level abuse. Nothing like intense or descriptive but just as a warning.
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter. Just because I'm terribly tired which makes my brain zonk out. 
> 
> Also if you can't tell, I know nothing of cars. 
> 
> All the comments and kudos; you're all the best <3

Adam dreamt of trees.

Thick trunks wrapped in dark green vines, and branches weighed down with bright leaves. Sunlight seeped through the canopy, lightening the moss covered ground. It was warm and soft under his back. Each breath was damp with the musky taste of summer. He lay alone listening to birds chirp to each other, enjoying the wind rustling music through the canopy overhead. The start of an old song he thought maybe he knew played on the still air. It was only a wisp of melody somewhere far away. He shifted on the ground, uncomfortable with the sound, and his sleeping form shifted in the bed, tangling the sheets between his legs. When dream Adam looked down, the vines had fallen from the trees, tying across his ankles and up around his knees, trapping him in place. Heavy footsteps cracked dry shrubbery and forgotten branches. He swallowed, suddenly recognising the song. It was an old eighties ballad his mom used to sing while she made dinner. The footsteps got closer and panic clawed across his skin like ants and Adam fought to get the vines from his legs and then he could run and it was too late and the monster was his father and he was coming for Adam and he screamed as a fist fell….

He woke on the floor of his apartment, panting and crying. Wiping his face clear, breathing in gasping breaths that did nothing to calm the thumping of his heart, he untangled himself from the sheets and checked the time. It was already half five; his alarm was due to go off in an hour. Grimacing, he text his second in command letting him know he wouldn't be in today. 

Jessie Dittley, an oversized man who only wrote in caps lock, replied instantly, THAT'S NO PROBLEM SEE YOU MONDAY. Certain people were made for the loud and aggressive world of Boyd's garage and Jessie was one of them. Well over six foot tall, he towered over Adam, but had never used his height as a way to intimidate. He'd also easily supported Adam when he started as manager. 

Adam liked him immensely. 

Not bothering to wonder why he was up so early, knowing Jessie kept weird hours, Adam thanked him. He sent one more message to Persephone asking if she had an appointment and went back to bed. Sleep came easier this time. It was a soft, dreamless place that Adam fell into with relief. 

The next time Adam woke, sunlight was streaming through his small window illuminating everything in a warm orange glow. Adam stretched out his long body and enjoyed how his back cracked. He was suddenly pleased about his impulsive decision to take the day off. Self-care and all that, he thought. Persephone had replied, letting him know she was free for an hour at two. Relief flooded him. He text Ronan to let him know he should pick him up from his apartment, and then lay back down, unsure what to do with the day. It was only eleven o'clock. He rarely had a whole day of free time. 

He decided to pass the time under the hood of his car, making much needed repairs. The brakes needed oiling, the oil needed checking and there was a weird noise he hoped wasn't the carbonator. By the time that was done, he just had time to shower and head to 300 Fox Way. Anxiety rolled beneath his skin, like an ocean flowing back and forth on the shore. No matter how many times he pushed it back, it always surged forward again. He wished he could take his skin off like a coat, air out his itching muscles and get some release from the electricity storm attacking his nerves. 

He drove quickly, glad the rattling had stopped. Henrietta was hazy in the heat. It was void of shadows and people; both hiding from the glaring sun. 

The house was as welcoming as ever. 

The joined up remains of two houses, it sat merrily on the street with flowers planted along the edge of the path and up the porch. Adam didn't bother knocking, just used the key they'd gifted him years before. The red and purple walls, the black and gray photos, the thrift store shopping of too many residents with too many opinions; it all attacked his senses and comforted him. Home meant few things to Adam, but this place, it was his clearest understanding of it. 

Persephone was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, blonde hair looking like it might swallow her alive. 

“I thought today,” she said in a voice almost lost to the calamitous noise of Fox Way. “We would make a pie.” 

Adam nodded and followed her to the kitchen, running his fingers along the rough plaster of the wall and skipping over mess of playing children. Since no one currently had any young children in the house, he couldn't help but wonder who owned them. 

“Oh the neighbors seem to think it's okay to leave them here," Persephone answered his unasked question. “Once they don't bother us, we don't mind.” She closed the kitchen door with a firm snap and turned the sign on it that said _session in progress_. 

This was the thing about therapy at Fox Way that took the most getting used to; it could happen anywhere in the house. Adam had had sessions in the attic, Persephone's bedroom, out back leaning against the old tree, while changing light bulbs in the ancient contraption that hung from the kitchen roof, in the reading/sewing/cat room and out on the porch. For a while, Persephone had encouraged him to hike with her for his hour, since she'd been going through a phase, but when that ended, so did the hiking sessions. 

Once she had pulled out the baking equipment, and given Adam a job rolling out the pastry she'd already made, she turned to him over the chopping board and looked at him in a way that said, _tell me the important parts_. 

“My mam mistook me for dad yesterday. It's the painkillers.” He took a shuddering breath and rolled the pastry out more aggressively than needed. 

Persephone just kept chopping. 

“It's just what if I look in the mirror one day and he's all I can see?”

She nodded, “Did you have an attack?”

“Nightmare. Tied up. He was coming for me. I couldn't move.” The pastry was paper thin on the wooden board. He took a shuddering breath.

“Too thin,” Persephone interrupted, rolling it back into a ball and scattering flour like a pro. “Do it again.” 

“Do these distraction techniques work on all your clients?” Adam smirked, but started rolling again, allowing the repetitve motion to ease some of the anxiety.

“Just the ones not as smart as you.” She sounded like a tiny child with complete authority. "Now, go on."

Adam did as she said. “There's a man and I think I might like him.”

Her eyebrows quirked. “Ahhhh.”

“He's damaged. He's broken.” Adam bit his lip and rolled the pastry thinner but not too thin. “But he’s something _more_ than that.”

“And how does that something more feel?”

“Like my brain is quiet. I mentioned my dad, well no, I mentioned the alarm. I implied about my dad. I talked to him, and it was easy, and he didn't, I dunno, there was no pity, you know?”

She nodded. “You haven't told anyone else you dated about that, have you?” 

He shook his head. 

“Why is this one different?”

Adam was ashamed to admit it. “He's broken too.” 

“Adam, you are not broken." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and because of that, it was easier for him to believe. "You were never broken. You are not responsible for others actions. Only your own. Do the list.”

Breathing, he said, “I survived. I got out alive. I went to college. I funded myself. I have formed lasting friendships. I've never raised my fist in anger.” Adam wiped a floury hand over his eyes. “I am not broken.” 

Persephone nodded. “Good. Now this man. Damaged?”

Adam smiled an agreement. 

“Good for you or bad for you?”

“Probably both.” 

Persephone tilted her head for him to continue. 

“I think one day in the future, he could be good for me and me for him. I think now we would destroy each other.” He started rubbing butter along the tin to stop the pastry from sticking to it. “I think for now friendship is best.”

“I agree.” She watched him lay the pastry down, guiding him with little taps of her fingers. “Your father is dead, Adam. The similarities in how you look are unfortunate, but looks do not make a person. Who you are is not how you look. He can't hurt you anymore. Except up here.” She tapped his temple gently. “Awake you can control that but sometimes your subconscious will need to air the fear out. It is unfortunate but avoiding triggers will help." She reached for the tin and he allowed her to take it. "How much have you seen your mom this week?” 

“Every night.” 

“And how much had we decided you would see her?” 

“Twice a week maximum.” 

She started layering apples into the pastry, coating them with sugar as she did. “I want you to go down to once a week. None if she continues to believe you are him.”

“Can I just do that?" Something like relief flooded him. "Just not go and see her?” 

Persephone smiled, putting the top on the pie and crushing the edges together with a fork. “Within your recovery, you are obligated to no one. This is not selfishness. It's self-care. Nightmares for you are the first step. Then it's anxiety and then panic attacks. We must recognise the triggers and take a step back. If only for a while. Your mother has a sister who visits?” 

Adam nodded. He took the tin from her and put it in the oven that was already on. He filled up the kettle as well and pulled out two cups. “She comes in twice a week.” 

“So, she is not alone.”

He smiled, “I guess not.”

“Allow yourself the time you need. The universe will agree to work around you. It is good like that.” She took the cup he offered her. “This man sounds like a challenge and you have never turned from one of them." He laughed in agreement. "You smile when you talk about him." Persephone examined him. "Friendship first, and come back to me in a month, and we shall see how it is going.”

Drinking his tea, and listening to the sounds of the first place he'd learned the meaning of the word home, he grinned. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

A little buzzer went off in the corner. “Times up?” He asked. 

“It is,” she agreed, waving away his wallet. “This one was free. I am technically not working today and you helped me make pie.” 

“I can't.” 

“Adam, self-care.” She took both his hands in her tiny sparrow ones. “You must allow others to be kind to you. It is a reminder of your own value but also a way for them to feel useful. Let me feel useful on my day off.”

“Thank you.” The phrase had been practiced between them for a long time. It was a lesson he had to learn over and over again; accepting kindness without needing to pay it back. He thought guiltily to his bargain with himself to raise profits for Boyd to ease the playing field between them. Maybe all Boyd wanted was a thank you. A bit of recognition for his gesture.

Adam pulled out his phone, and Persephone smiled. “Good boy.” She flipped the sign off the door. “That pie will be ready in half an hour. You should bring it to your BBQ tonight.” 

Before Adam could ask how she knew they were having a BBQ, she was gone.


	17. Take a new day and add some courage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short. I'm sorry. I'm tired. *Kisses* 
> 
> I'll make the next one longer. *More kisses* 
> 
> Also the next one is basically all Ronan and Adam hanging out so at least there's that to look forward to. *Even more kisses*

Ronan dreamt of war. 

He always dreamt of war; hot sand melting the rubber of his boots, hours spent waiting for the enemy in deserted buildings, long nights with no release for the skipping CD beneath his skin, fire burning his nostrils and gunpowder lacing his hands, explosions ringing in his ears and sweat slicking his hands. War was a haze of want and the constant tug of homesickness. It was the scream of dying men, the impossibility of separating the blood on his combats from his friends and his enemies.

Turns out they all bled the same. 

Ronan’s dreams were flashes of pain mixed with too many memories and a subconscious rebelling. He tossed in his bed, kicking sheets off and pushing away pillows, as his dream self hid from dropping bombs and the grit of sand between his teeth and the heat of the sun and the screams and the burned flesh and the fear the fear the fear…

Ronan gasped awake, breaking the surface of his dream like a drowning man who’d figured out which way was up. He sucked in lungfuls of air. Sweat soaked his skin and dampened his bed. The sheet he'd thrown over himself was kicked into one corner of his bed. He was shivering in his boxers from misplaced adrenaline as his brain fought to remind his body _he was home he was home he was home_.

It was just his heart that was still at war. 

He rolled off the bed, pulling on a t-shirt and headed downstairs. The sun was lightening the horizon but it'd be another hour before it forced the navy back with unopposed force. Ronan grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat on the cool wood of the porch. It was still damp with dew. 

Noah sat beside him. “It's time you rang Blue's mom.”

Ronan just grunted and took a long drag of his beer. It helped calm his pacing heart. He took another drag and another, finishing the bottle too quickly. Cool air prickled his skin. Fragrant perfume scented the air; the blooming flowers scent echoing though the clean morning air. 

“Soldier, you have a mission.” 

“Not a soldier anymore, Noah.” He threw the empty bottle in an sweeping arch. Both men followed it with interested eyes. The smash echoed through the empty yard. 

Ronan went and got another two bottles. 

“So it's a bit early to ring now." Noah was tapping long fingers on the wooden porch. The noise rang across the yard, joining the chorus of birds and the mewling cows. “But I definitely think it'll be okay after nine.” 

Ronan ignored him. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and downed another beer. He smashed it besides the other one. Two bottles in and it was starting to hit his system. His shoulder ached and he rolled it. The movement made the pain worse. 

“Ronan, you promised.”

“I didn't actually.”

Noah huffed and started picking at the band's around Ronan's wrist. 

It freaked Ronan out. The air he inhaled felt thinner as he watched the gesture. He could _feel_ Noah's touch. The bands were _moving_ against his skin. The whole sensation made him feel seasick. The earth swayed beneath him. “Fine. I'll call at nine.” 

“Good.” Noah linked their hands. “I'm glad.” 

Ronan finished the third bottle and threw it at the other two. “I'm gonna watch TV,” he said, dropping Noah's hand with some force. He couldn't keep playing this game. 

Noah didn't follow him. 

The documentary Gansey had watched on his birthday was still on his Netflix list. Switching it on, he lay on the couch and downed a fourth beer. The pulsing anxiety was easing off now. Sleep picked at his eyelids. He let the narrator's voice lull him back to sleep. This time Ronan dreamt of his mother's laugh, and Noah's smile, his brothers jokes and his father's stories. He fell into these dreams with pleasure. 

When he woke, the sun was straining to get through the gaps in the curtains. He groaned as the effects of four beers and little sleep hit him. Instant hangover. Just add self-destruction. He groaned again as he got up, and swallowed pint after pint of water, until the vile taste left his mouth and his head felt less heavy. 

His phone sat on the dining room table. He had a message from Adam and one from Gansey. Neither needed to be replied to. Although he considered replying to Adam. He pushed the urge away. 

He eased the business card Blue had given him from the built-in wallet in his phone cover. It nestled beside Kavinsky's card like an old friend. He typed the number in and stared at the screen. He examined it for so long, the phone automatically locked itself. He did it again and again. The thump of his heart was making him nauseous. 

He pressed the call button. 

“Fox Way therapy, this is Maura.”

Ronan cleared his throat and tried to talk. Nothing came out. He tried again. “I… I think I need… Look, I was a soldi… And I was sho… There was a battle… Anyway, I'm home a while… They kicked me out… I just need… I dunno… Blue gave me your number,” he finished unsure if any of that made sense. 

“Ronan? Ronan Lynch?” 

Ronan nodded, and then realising she couldn't see him, grunted his acquiescence. “How'd you know?”

“Blue mentioned she'd given you a card. Also you got her thrown in jail.” Maura sounded kind but firm. Like she wouldn't take anyone messing with her. “I'm sure you remember my partner having to come down and bail you out?”

“I did apologise to him.”

Maura made a noise of disapproval like she knew exactly what the apology had sounded like and it wasn't sincerity. 

Ronan thought of Dean Allen, Blue’s sorta dad. He could see Maura with a man like that just from the tone of her voice. “What did Blue tell you about me?” 

“She hasn't told me anything except that she'd given you the card.” Maura voice took a professional tone. It was more serious than before, less likely to laugh at him any time soon. “I'll need to review you before I can assign you a counsellor.”

Ronan felt a surge of gratitude for the fact that Blue had kept his secret. “What does a review consist of?”

“Questions mostly. Talking some.” He heard the rustle of paper. “Does Monday at three suit?”

He balked, shocked. “That soon?” 

“I had a cancellation. Usually I'd give it to a regular, but since you're Blue's friend, you get first dibs.”

Another surge of thankfulness. Being friends with Blue had its perks. “Do I need to bring anything?” 

“Insurance info and your VA number. We can sort out the rest.” 

“Okay, thanks. I'll em… See you then I guess.” 

“Let me know if you're going to cancel.” 

“I won't be. I promise.”

“Okay, stay safe this weekend. Try not to get my daughter arrested again.” The humour was back, easing Ronan's discomfort at what he was doing. “Bye Ronan.”

Before he could reply, she’d already hung up.


	18. Friendship is for winners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all just nice times and sunny warmth and friendly places because it's Monday and everyone deserves some fluff. Saying that there is like the tiniest bit of angst at the start. Tiny tiny. 
> 
> Also it's a bit longer because it's Monday and everyone deserves a longer chapter. 
> 
> The messages I'm recieving are giving me life so thank you so much. Also the kudos, the subscriptions, and the bookmarks- my little heart has grown three sizes <3

Adam drove after his session with Persephone. Everything she'd said was still ringing in his ears. Tiredness prickled at the edge of his vision. He hated the after-therapy exhaustion that always seemed to hit him. Like all the bones in his body were hollow and aching. His fingers around the too hot steering wheel were white and he had to pry them off gently. He stretched them out to ease the ache. Henrietta were surrounded by brown fields of parched grass and long, lonely roads to nowhere. 

He wanted to be somewhere with buildings reaching for the sky. He had this image of himself dressed in a suit, carrying a briefcase and chatting on a cellphone. He’d be annoyed about how loud the traffic was because _it was a very important call_. It seemed silly to think about it with the sun splitting the tarmac but sometimes it was the only thing that helped him sleep on the worst of the long nights. 

His phone beeped in the ashtray. Boyd had replied to his message of thanks with a _no problem_. The total lack of expectations from him still shocked Adam. Boyd had genuinely helped him out of the goodness of his heart. Because he cared for Adam. 

What the fuck was that about?

If Adam knew anything, he knew he wasn't worth that. 

He'd grown up _despite_ his family. College friends, girlfriend, boyfriends; none of them had ever really tried with him. He worked too much. Studied too often. Drank too little. He was too serious. Too intense. Too mature. All the complaints were leveled at him at least once in his life. Usually more. And it was like his brain forgot the grades and his professor’s compliments, how hard he'd work and his two degrees, like any achievements were easily lost to the black hole of his memory, and yet, the same brain catalogued by date, time and precision every horrible thing that had ever been said to him. 

Adam had never quite slotted in as easily as everyone else seemed to. Life for him felt like walking up the stairs in the dark, taking the next step, and there was nothing there. Just a jolt of fearful realisation and a fall. Everyone else seemed to run up those stairs without a care. 

Adam had spent his life missing a step, and then another, and another, until he was so far away from everyone else, there was no point trying anymore. He didn't fit. He'd accepted that a very long time ago. Accepted he'd always be out of time with the world. It was just now after finding Gansey, and having Blue, and knowing Ronan, he no longer wanted to accept it. He wanted more than just success and money and his own home. Not that he no longer wanted those things; he would happily work himself to death to achieve them, but now he realised he also wanted more. 

_Maybe_. 

A family of his own making. 

_Maybe_.

His heart shuddered in his chest at the admission. Fear crawled inside his ribcage warning him the only thing that waited at the end of this path was pain and hurt. Pushing it away, he flicked an indicator and did a quick u-turn. It was almost time to meet his Ronan.

The fear would have to wait. 

Ronan was outside his apartment when Adam pulled up. He was parked beneath the shade of a tree and was sitting on the hood of his car. Adam shut off the engine and watched Ronan, who seemed so deep in thought, he hadn't noticed the car pull up. The driver's window of the BMW was still broken. 

Ronan was scratching his nails up and down his arm, leaving long red indents along his skin. He shrugged and a cruel smile played music along his lips. “Leave it, Noah.” 

The words carried through the crack in Adams window. There was no one sitting beside Ronan. Unsure, Adam opened the car door with an excess of noise so as not to startle him. 

Even still, Ronan jolted and whipped his head around.

“Who's Noah?” Adam asked, approaching Ronan like you would a wild animal. He'd seen the flinches and the hidden panic. He recognised the pulsing fear knotting its way under Ronan's skin. He wanted to be gentle, but he also wanted to insure Ronan was okay, because Adam now realised he'd been talking to himself. 

Ronan’s eyes went wild, whites expanding to almost comical proportions. “Fucking no one. Maybe learn how to not fucking eavesdrop, Parrish.” 

“Were you talking to him?” He leant on the hood, back to Ronan. He wanted to give the other man a chance to clear the raw emotion off his face.

“I was fucking praying, okay?" 

Adam said nothing. Gansey had said Ronan didn't lie. He believed it too because, Adam the king of lying, knew a bad liar when he saw one. Lack of practice made Ronan a really bad liar when he tried. 

The silence between them lasted a few minutes.

Huffing, Ronan slid off the hood, refusing to meet Adam's eyes. “You fucking ready or not?” 

“Sure,” Adam said easily. Ronan was not gonna get the better of him by dropping a few curse words. “Do we need to go shopping?”

“Beer and food and whatever.” He unlocked the door and climbed in. “Fire supplies and shit.” 

Adam inhaled and reminded himself it was none of his business. He exhaled and promised to keep an eye out for the other man. Working on friendships and all that. He slid into the BMW and pretended he wasn't surging with jealousy and awe. The leather was smooth beneath him and the air-conditioning blasted on when the key turned in the ignition. Blaring electronica followed. 

Ronan said something and Adam pointed to his bad ear. Ronan said it again. Again he shrugged. Scowling, Ronan lowered the music and stared at him. “Are you deaf or just fucking with me?”

Adam pointed to his left ear, the one closest to Ronan, and shrugged. He was practiced at nonchalance so his voice sounded normal when he said, “Deaf. Left ear.” 

“Shit, man.” He didn't apologise. Adam appreciated that. Intense blue eyes stroked along Adam's face before he said, “Is this a people are shitheads thing?”

Adam nodded stiffly. No one had guessed that before. He usually played it off as a childhood accident. He didn't look at Ronan, desperately forcing the red flush from his cheeks, but he heard the quiet tap of fingers on his leather covered steering wheel. 

“Can you fix my window?” Ronan asked suddenly. “It's doing my head in.”

Adam glanced over at Ronan and grinned a loose shape at the subject change. “Yeah, no problem. Pop into the shop Monday morning. I'll fit you in.”

“Thanks, man.” The engine roared to life beneath their feet and Ronan sped from the parking lot. “Just turn it down if you need to,” he said as his hand reached for the dial.

He stilled Ronan's hand with his own. “You're not going ask what happened?” The skin was warm and rough under his fingers. 

Ronan examined the contact, eyes darting between it and the road. “I figured you'd tell me if you wanted me to know. _When_ you wanted me to know.” 

There was something of a plea beneath his words. “I figured the same for you,” Adam replied, dropping Ronan’s hand and turning up the music for him. 

After they'd bought more food than the four of them could ever eat, and Ronan paid for everything with a gruff _its my BBQ_ , they called into Dollar City. Well, Ronan drove them there without asking. Adam didn't complain though. Something like glee was written across Ronan's face as grabbed a basket from just inside the door. It made something prickle in his chest as he glanced back to check Adam had followed him. 

“So what's the theme for our BBQ, Parrish?”

Adam smirked. “Thought it was your party, Lynch.”

“Decided you could co-host it with me.” Ronan shrugged, all casual, while loading balloons, streamers, party bags, red cups and ping pong balls into the carrier. “Beer pong.”

“Never played.” Adam trailed behind, running his fingers along the oddities stacking the shelves. A snow globe filled with glitter. A turkey shaped clock. An apron with kiss the cock and a picture of a male hen on it. Adam snorted, and when Ronan turned, he pointed it out to him. 

Ronan added it to his shopping. “You can wear it. Maggot will fucking love it.” The grin he threw Adam was easy and pliant. “And the fuck you mean you've never played beer pong? Didn't you spend 300 years in college?”

“Was too busy studying.”

“God, I've been to war. Twice. And I still managed to get a few games in.” Ronan added swizzle straws and tiny umbrellas, a sign that said _it's a boy_ and a whole collection of fairy lights to his treasure. “I'll show you tonight. You can be on my team.”

Adam had never seen this version of Ronan; electric and pulsing. He strolled down the aisles like he owned them, shoulders relaxed and grin easily found. This version was intoxicating. He'd also never had Ronan mention his past so easily. It was like Adam opening up a tiny bit allowed Ronan to do it as well; a bargain between them. The stress from his earlier session fell away, and he let it, focusing instead on joining in on the fun. He rarely lived in the moment, but today with Ronan, it felt easy. 

Ronan help up a deck of cards, “Strip poker later?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Adam laughed. “Fuck no.”

Ronan added them to the basket anyway. He picked up a set of tennis rackets and a ball, two sets of sunglasses, a game of twister which included more eyebrow wiggling, and even more lights. These ones were shaped like tiny skulls. “Okay, I think this is probably enough, right? Do you think we should get more stuff?” He was eyeing a massive inflatable pool. 

Adam shook his head, “Nah, I think we're good.” A much smaller paddling pool was handed to him anyway. He laughed. “Fine. Let's go before the car overheats with all the food.”

“It's parked in the fucking shade, Parrish.” There was no heat to the words. He was already heading towards the cashier. When Adam tried to pay him some money, he waved his hand away. “What the fuck are you doing? It's my goddamn party.”

“You just said we were co-hosts.”

“Changed my mind,” he answered, swiping his card before Adam could protest. He grinned as they packed up the bags. “So fellow co-host, shall we go back to the ranch?”

Adam didn't answer. Just raised an eyebrow. 

Ronan shrugged and handed Adam a pair of sunglasses. “Fucking what, Parrish? I changed my mind again.” 

By the time seven o'clock hit, the yard had transformed into a wonderland of sparkling lights, a paddling pool, games, a smoking BBQ, and a table set with more condiments and salads than Adam knew existed. The _it's a boy _sign fluttered in the wind. Ronan had changed it to say, _it's a fucking BBQ_. The messy black scrawl didn't quite cover the original wording. __

__Adam sort of felt this was what the inside of Ronan's brain looked like._ _

__The paddling pool glistened in the sun. Birds chirped like music in the trees surrounding The Barns and wind rustled the leaves. Adam shook off the disconcerting feeling of familiarity. The haze of heat, the canopy of green in the distance, the ocean of grass moving on unseen currents; it was too much like his dreams. He wanted to stroll over Ronan's lands, drop into the long grass and disappear into nature. He sat at the picnic table, back leaning against the wood, toes in the paddling pool and sun on his face. He was wearing the sunglasses Ronan had bought him, had even managed not to complain or offer to pay. Just gave him a simple thank you._ _

__All in all, it was not the worst way to start a weekend._ _

__When Ronan walked out from the house, he was dressed only in black shorts. Even his feet were bare. The easiness hadn't left him, and he strolled casually across the yard, grinning at something Adam wasn't privy to._ _

__Adam examined him from behind the safety of the sunglasses. His eyes dragged over the other man's broad shoulders and defined biceps. The shorts hung low on a tapered waist, strong abs and collarbones Adam wanted to trace his fingers across. Just to feel them. There was a tattoo on his ribs, words Adam couldn't quite see, and another one seeping around from his back like a thick cloud. He swallowed and looked away._ _

__Ronan checked the BBQ and then fell into the paddling pool, splashing water up Adam's legs.  
Ronan linked his fingers around Adam's ankle and pulled gently. “Whatdaya do if I pulled you in?”_ _

__“Land on you.” He laughed. “That thing is tiny.”_ _

__“Wouldn't be the worst result than.” Ronan grinned at him, and then before Adam could respond, dropped his head below the water, blowing bubbles and blocking Adam's view of his face._ _

__He didn't know if they were flirting. Ronan’s fingers were still locked around his ankle, warm and steadying._ _

__He repeated the promise to Persephone, _just friends_ , and then started throwing ping pong balls at Ronan. They floated in the water around his head. He watched from under the water, eyes wide and unblinking. _ _

__Adam grinned down at him and stole back his ankle on the pretence of getting himself a beer. Ronan broke the surface and spat a stream of water at Adam._ _

__“Get me a beer, Parrish. Let's get this party started.”_ _


	19. It's always just a heartbeat away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno why Ronan's chapters are shorter at the moment but they are so... The next chapter will also be a bit short. It's all set at the BBQ but because I'm jumping back and forth between them, it means less words. 
> 
> I'll try to update quicker so you have _more_ words. 
> 
> Thanks you for all the support. Means the world to me <3

Ronan stood at the BBQ, sun in his eyes and heat making tiny drops of sweat race down his skin. The smell of cooking meat, the damp ground around the paddling pool, the rustling of leaves and the scent of flowers reminded him painfully and wonderfully of his parents. They had lived in this yard in the summer; eating, playing games, fixing whatever was broken, and encouraging the brothers to appreciate and learn the land they owned. 

Sometimes Ronan thought he was the only one who got that message. This land was in his blood and he was never leaving it again. Not for anything or anyone. 

Shrugging his shoulders, he tried to relax. The panic he'd felt since Adam asked about Noah had made itself comfortable beneath his skin. It thrilled and danced, itching along his muscles and through his blood. There was a headache forming at the base of his skull, pressing down his neck and across his shoulders. He recognised he was bracing for an attack that he was beginning to recognise wasn't going to come. 

Adam had accepted his explanation, and even if he didn't believe him, he’d let it be. 

Ronan didn't lie, and what he told Adam, it hadn't technically been lying. He was praying; it was just he was able to have full conversations with the subject of his worship. 

Somewhere, deep inside, buried so far down he didn't look anymore, Ronan knew that convincing himself something was true wasn't any different from lying. Deciding his words were true after he'd already spat them out like venom made his complicated code of morality even harder. 

Still though, for today it'd have to do.

“Praying to me now?” Noah's voice was so close to his ear, he jumped.

“You okay?” Adam asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Fucking fine, Parrish. Just burned my hand on the grill.” He touched the grill in some masochistic way of proving himself not a liar. Gritting his teeth, he held up his the side of his hand; red and glowing. 

He heard Adam shift and a fresh beer was passed over his shoulder. He dropped the spatula and took it. The glass was cool and damp against his burn. 

“You should put some water on that.”

“It's barely a touch. I'm fine.” He stared at the drops of condensation drippling down the raised skin. 

Adam shrugged, and Ronan felt him shift closer to get a look at the food. He trying to see over the taller height of Ronan's shoulder, leaning into him but not quite touching, close enough that his hair tickled across Ronan's neck. 

“Almost done?” Adam’s voice was directly in Ronan's ear. “I'm starving.”

Ronan swallowed, and wiped his face clear of emotion, before turning and catching Adam's eye. “It's on its way, Parrish.” Their faces were so close he could feel Adam's breath on his skin. He couldn't help but notice how the other man's eyes darted down to his lips and back up to his eyes. “Demanding much?” He asked, trying to break the tension weighing down the air between them. 

Something complicated passed over Adam's face and he took a step back. He took a long slug of beer before saying, “I would hardly call expecting food at a BBQ demanding.” Rolling his eyes, he sat back down and dipped his feet into the paddling pool. “You're just the slowest goddamn cook I've ever met.” 

“Perfection takes time, asshole.” 

Little drops of water hit his back when he turned back around. He huffed out a laugh. He knew buying the paddling pool was a good idea. It had eased some of his nerves earlier, buying everything in sight, and it meant he got to touch Adam when he was in it. Casually.

He could feel Adam's eyes on him as he flipped burgers. The heat of them trailed along his back, devouring his tattoo. Ronan let him. If he was being honest, and he was always honest, it felt good to be admired. The last time someone had looked at him that way was a very long time ago. Smoke fell off the grill in mushrooms clouds and was lost in the hazy heat of the evening. 

More water hit him, splashes that slid down his back and soaked into his already damp shorts. He laughed again. “It's fucking coming, loser.”

Adam muttered a quiet, _whatever, hopefully before I die of starvation_ , and went back to throwing water on Ronan's calf's. Casually. 

The vibrating phone broke the easy lull of the evening. Ronan knew it was his without turning around. He saw Adam pick it up “Who is it?”

“Declan?” 

Ronan had to answer. Had promised Matthew they'd all hang out, but that was before he'd booked an appointment with a counsellor, and if Declan asked he'd have to tell him the truth. When he'd tried to tell Gansey earlier on the daily catch-up call his best friend insisted on having now he realised Ronan would pick up, the words seemed to be lodged in his throat. Like a child's first day at school, they'd stubbornly refused to get out of the car, or his mouth, or fucking whatever. 

He turned to Adam, waving the spatula and feigning disinterest. “Answer it, will ya?” 

Adam examined him as he accepted the call. “Ronan's phone, let me just get him for ya.” He left the paddling pool, took the spatula from Ronan's frozen hand and gave him the phone. For no reason, Ronan could understand, he said, “Don't worry. You've got this.”

Nodding, fingers gripping the almost weightless device, he stepped away and shoved a grim smile on his face. Not that his brother could see. “What’s up, fuckface?”

Declan sighed a tired noise. “Who was that?” 

“What the fuck do you care?” Ronan was very aware Adam could hear what he was saying. He paced away, towards the fence. “He's a fucking friend.”

“Didn't know you had any friends other than Gansey.”

“Fuck you. I'm having a fucking BBQ tonight.” He dragged his nail along the wood and considered painting the fences next week. “I am a fucking social butterfly.”

“Ronan, that's…” There was something like pride in Declan’s voice and Ronan regretted picking up the call. Intensely. “I was just calling about tomorrow. To see if we're still on.”

Ronan considered being contrary before pushing it aside. “Figured you could come out early,” he answered. “Meet Adam and Blue. Gansey will be here. They'll probably be BBQ food left over. Bought enough to feed a small army.” 

Somewhere in his brain, a bomb exploded. He jumped, crouching down as his training kicked in, and looked for cover. He dropped his phone with a sickening crash. Blinking and sweating, he grabbed the fence. Adrenaline pumped through his body, racing to catch up to his heartbeat. Stealing in deep breaths, he curled his toes until they hurt. 

He was safe. He was safe. He was safe. 

Only his heart was still at war. 

When the thumping fear had calmed in his ears, he picked up the phone and forced his tone to be light when he said, “Sorry, man. Dropped the phone.”

Declan was silent for a second too long. “No problem. Tomorrow about twelve suit?” 

It took a second to figure out what his brother was talking about. “Yeah, that's great.” The gasps of air he was pulling in were too loud over the pristine connection. “Matthew coming?”

“He's counting down the hours.” Declan laughed and it reminded Ronan of days spent climbing trees and hiding from their mam and hot pie just out of the oven and clearing horse shit and sleepless night spent playing video games. “Need me to bring anything?”

“Fuck no. You and Matthew.” He had a sudden and overwhelming need to see his brothers. An ache of homesickness hit him; one for the life they used to have, for the relationships they used to own. One day, he'd figure out a way to get it back. “That's fucking everything.” 

“Okay. Brilliant.” Declan paused. The unasked question sat between them in the silence; _are you okay?_ He didn't say it though. Instead, he said, “See ya tomorrow then.”

Ronan hung up and forced himself up, knees cracking. The bullet wound was throbbing. He kneed it roughly with his fist. Adam had his back to him, eyes fixed on the BBQ. Hopefully he'd missed the whole moment. That was all it fucking was, Ronan convinced himself. Just a fucking moment. 

Noah's laugh echoed on the wind. “Lot of moments you having.”

Ronan ignored him, and waved as the pig exploded down the drive in an entrance that was all dust and music and the roar of the camaro's engine. Adam turned to watch it's progress. Ronan took the opportunity to steal the spatula back. 

“Grab some plates there, Parrish. Food done.”

Adam shoved him with his shoulder and muttered, “Finally.” 

Ronan pushed all the self hate and exhaustion and panic and fear down somewhere deep so he could ignore it. He also ignored Noah, standing beside him, looking mournfully at the food. He could do this. He could be normal for just a few hours. 

Tonight, it was time to celebrate. Not grieve.


	20. Stars as hopeful as wishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff.  
> Fluff.  
> Fluff.  
> And now with _added_ fluff. 
> 
> A fluffy chapter (in case you hadn't guessed) much quicker than I meant to, but it was written, and I am having a lazy Saturday, so why not?
> 
> There is some Gansey development, and some Blue and Gansey development, and a bonfire. 
> 
> As always thank you for the lovely comments and kudos and love. You are all brilliant!

The bonfire ate the horizon, absorbing the dark night and spitting out impatient reds and oranges desperate for the heat of the sun. Crackling warmth filled the air, and sparks jumped from the flames with joyous abandonment. Adam had never been at a bonfire before, had never seen flames so big they could eat him alive. He adored it.The power of it, the strength, the determination to stay alive; it reminded him of his younger self in the most aching sincere way. That kid had fought to survive, and despite the world's worst efforts, he’d made it. 

Stars disappeared in the haze of the flames. The air was heavy and warm around him, every breath tasting of ash and freshly cut grass. Outside the circle of light, inky darkness pressed in. It gave the impression they were the only people in the whole world. Adam didn’t mind with Ronan pressed into him on the small log they sat on. Blue and Gansey sat at the other log, whispering away about Glendower or the pygmy tyrant or travel. He didn't know which. All he knew was that he was incredibly grateful to the kid that had fought for so long to get him to safety, because right now, surrounded by his friends and the stretching fields and the silence and the night sky, he felt safe and loved and lucky. So freaking lucky. 

The feeling exploding in him fed the wish that he was no longer unknown and unknowable. 

He wished he could tell them what he’d just realised but the words were not ready to form yet. One day he would sit at another bonfire and explain to his friends how he’d saved himself and then they’d helped to save him again. One day. These friendships they were forming were only a few weeks old, barely anything, and yet he knew that he’d finally found his people. Something like relief settled a warm blanket over his shoulders. 

“Big thoughts, Parrish?” Ronan had sat on the correct side of him, despite the fact it usually took people so much longer to figure out which side to talk to him on. “Care to share with the group?” He was whispering though, clearly having little interest in inviting Gansey and Blue to their conversation. 

Adam glanced at Ronan. 

Ronan was already staring back. 

Caught in those piercing blue eyes, he didn’t even notice Ronan pick up a marshmallow and fling it at his face. It hit him square on the nose and Ronan laughed. Adam thought with certainty that making Ronan Lynch laugh was not a power to be messed with. He also knew he would do anything to make him do it again. “Thanks for that, dick.”

“Think your confusing me with Gansey there, asshole.”

Adam threw the marshmallow back at him. 

Ronan caught it in his mouth and gave Adam a wolfish grin. 

“Show off,” he muttered but he was smiling. 

Ronan laughed again, and then handed him a stick with a marshmallow at the end. “Let's make smores, shithead.”

“I dunno know how to do that, asshole.”

“Seriously? Jeez, Parrish, where did you grow up? A trailer park?”

A shocked laugh fell from Adam’s mouth. “Spot on, Lynch. A goddamn trailer park.”

Ronan rolled his eyes, like that was no excuse. “Fucking look-” He took Adam’s hand and steered the end with the marshmallow into the flames. “-now you keep it here until the marshmallow goes brown on the outside. Don’t let it go black or on fire. It’s gross.” He still had Adam’s hand, warm skin wrapped around his, holding it steady in the most glorious and unnecessary way. “Pull it the fuck out and grab two biscuits and ta-fucking-da, you have a smore. Go on, try it.”

Adam did; it was sweet and sticky and somehow the best thing he’d ever tasted. He thought maybe it was because Ronan watched him eat it in rapt attention, or maybe because he could still feel the heat of Ronan’s skin on his, or maybe because when he licked his fingers clean of sugar Ronan licked his lips and a blush rose on his cheeks. 

“Yo, walk me to the toilet, will ya?” Blue asked, cutting through the silence that had fallen between them. 

Both men turned to look at her. Adam framed his face to reflect none of the guilt he felt at being caught. It was not like they’d been doing anything but _staring_ at each other. He wasn’t sure why the flare of guilt had even hit him, except maybe because he’d promised Persephone they’d be friends first, and the way they'd just been looking at each other was distinctly _not_ friendly. 

Oh no, it was _way_ past friendship. 

It was the type of look he knew he was going to play over and over in his head before he went to sleep at night. He didn’t think he’d ever been looked at with such naked _want_ before. He couldn't understand why this man, who was thoughtful, kind and attractive, wanted him. Why he went out of his way to make Adam laugh, or gripped his ankle with warm fingers. Pressed his side so close, Adam could feel his arm and leg and hip and warmth. Taught him out to make smores. Remembered what side of him to sit on. 

Adam wanted to close the space between them now, have Ronan throw his arm over his shoulder and lean into him. Except Ronan was standing with a grumble and agreeing with a _fine maggot, I’ll you to the goddamn toilet even though there was no way you’ll be murdered out here_. Adam felt more than saw Ronan's last look in his peripheral vision. Felt more than saw how regretful the other man was leaving his side. Felt the cold air claim Ronan’s spot and leave Adam a little bit lonely.

The fire crackled happily in the night, filling the silence left by the arguing duo. 

Gansey sat down beside Adam when they disappeared into the shadows.“I’m so glad you and Ronan are getting on. I know he’s can be hard work…”

Considering how much space there was between them when Gansey sat down, Adam realised he and Ronan had been sitting gloriously and unnecessarily close. Adam shook his head in wonder. “He’s fine, man. I just ignore him when he goes off.”

Gansey’s laugh echoed across the fields. “It’s probably for the best.”

“Can I ask you something though?” Adam knew Ronan would not want him to do this, but also knew he had to check. The flashbacks were getting worse. Adam had seen him have one earlier but had known better than to interfere. He was no Blue. He just monitored the situation from afar, and decided that if Ronan had needed him, he would step in. Adam had a suspicion now that it getting closer to the time to step in. “Who’s Noah?”

“Did Ronan mention him to you?” Gansey’s voice was guarded; the easy laugh gone and protectiveness for his friend taking over. 

“I overheard him when he picked me up. He said his name, and when I asked, he said he was praying.” Adam was not going to tell Gansey that Ronan had been talking to himself. Not yet anyway. “I don’t want to pry so don’t feel the need to tell me but I also don’t want to put my foot in it around him.”

Gansey laughed a short, sharp noise. It sounded too much like Ronan. “Noah was his friend. He met him in military school. He was brilliant; kind, funny, energetic, came up with the absolute best ideas, and Ronan adored him. Both as a friend and more. When they joined the army…” he shrugged. “Anyway, Noah didn’t come home.” Gansey took in a wet breath. 

Adam took a long gulp of beer. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Did you know we almost lost Ronan too?” Adam pretended he didn’t see Gansey wipe his eyes. “The last fight they were in… God, it’s horrifying to think about. Ronan was shot and I just got this call in the middle of the night. Declan in tears. I know you don’t know his brother but he didn’t even cry at their parents funeral and it’s three in the morning and he’s crying down the phone to me. I thought Ronan was dead, I really did.” He took a long shaky breath. “I was up, researching. I don’t really…” He took another series of breathes and when he spoke again his voice was calmer, “I don’t sleep. Declan couldn’t leave Matthew, couldn’t leave his job, and I was the one tasked with going over. All we knew was there had been a fight and Ronan had been shot and everyone else had… Anyway, I arrive in Germany and he’s alive and refusing to see me. Just point blank refusing me entry to his room.”

Adam could hear the heartbreak in the other man’s voice. He stared into the flames, giving him a minute to compose himself. “What did you do?”

“Hung around for a few days, made sure he was actually okay, but I had to come home. The PHD was not going to write itself.” Gansey gave him a wiry, self-deprecating grin. “Like it even really mattered anymore.”

“It does, trust me.” Adam turned to him, knowing this more than anything was important. The life he survived had taught him this with startingly clarity. “Look man, the bad stuff happens, it’ll always happen, but it doesn’t take away the importance of the good stuff. You can’t let it ever do that. And sometimes it even makes the good stuff more important.”

Gansey suddenly looked so young, barely a boy. The lines of his face softened and a easy grin formed on his lips. “Adam, I am so very glad I met you. I just want you to know that.”

Adam just shrugged, unable to think of a response. He was embarrassed at how nakedly Gansey’s appreciation sat on his face, and jealous of how easily Gansey could express the exact emotions Adam had failed to say aloud. 

“He’s home,” Gansey said after a minute of staring at the bonfire. “He’s safe, and I know it is awful, but I am so glad he got discharged. Every time he left, I felt his luck run out a little bit more.”

“It broke him though, didn’t it? Leaving the army?”

“More than I think even he realises.”

The sound of Blue and Ronan returning floated across to them on the quiet night. Ronan laughed and Blue screamed and Ronan laughed harder. 

“He’s home safe now,” Gansey repeated like an oath. “That’s all that matters.”

Adam couldn’t help but think Ronan was anything but safe. Not yet. Not until he got some help. 

“Dick, you’re in my seat.” 

Gansey huffed in annoyance but got up anyway. “Okay, Ronan.”

Blue flopped on the grass beside the bonfire. “What time is it?”

“Half two,” Gansey answered, taking a sip of beer. He had on his thin, wiry glasses, having discarded his contacts before the bonfire was lit because _it’ll dry out my eyes and I’ll go blind_ , and he kept fiddling with them. “Do be careful, Jane. You might go on fire.”

Blue rolled over, face in the grass and stomach on Gansey’s feet. “I’ve been up since half six,” she muttered into the grass. “I might go to bed.”

“Well, I’m not walking you back over,Maggot,” Ronan growled. “Let Gansey do it.”

“Well, that suits me, asshole,” Blue replied. “I was planning on making out with him anyway.”

Gansey choked on his beer. 

Blue sat up and offered her hand to him. “You coming?”

He nodded between coughs, and they left, barely bothering to wave goodbye. Giggling and indistinct teasing carried over to him and Ronan. 

“Okay, so we’re not going back to the house for a while,” Adam said between gasping laughter.

“Might as well just burn the fucking place down. Start afresh.”

Adam laughed even harder. 

Ronan lay back suddenly, almost like he’d fallen off the log. “Lie down,” he ordered when Adam glanced back at him. “Let me show you something really fucking cool.”

Adam shrugged and lay down beside him. 

Ronan shifted closer, shoulders brushing and hands resting a hairbreadth away from touch. He glanced over at Adam and pointed upwards. “Look.”

Adam had very little interest in looking at anything but the man beside him. He turned his head anyway. Down on the ground, out of the circle of light cast by the fire, the whole world had opened up in an expanse of black sky holding thousands and thousands of stars. Adam hadn’t seen this many before; always prevented by streetlights and city lights and a lack of interest. He stared and he stared and there was always more to see. Ronan pointed at the names of some for a while and then they went silent. 

Adam had never been so aware of another human being in his life. 

He knew objectively he was touch starved, but being this close to Ronan felt like he was drowning. Ronan’s bare arm traced the length of his, their legs touched and their feet rested against each other. It felt like his skin was electrified, and every time Ronan shifted a spark would ignite, rippling across him like stones interrupting a calm lake. _Just friends_ was repeated as a mantra to remind him he could not, would not, should not turn his head and capture Ronan’s lips. Because he could feel Ronan watching him watch the stars, stealing little bits Adam was suddenly happy to give. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Adam shifted his hand closer and managed to link his middle finger with Ronan’s. He didn’t look at the man when he did, just kept following the stars with his begging eyes. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Ronan linked the rest of his fingers with Adam.

Neither of them spoke. Neither of them wanted to break the strange magic that had settled over them. Another bargain; tonight they would be as close as possible and tomorrow they would go back to pretending that whatever was happening between them was not. 

Adam could happily accept that if it meant he got to feel the weight of Ronan’s fingers in his, and the warmth of him, and the little catches in breath happening each time Adam allowed Ronan to sweep his thumb back and forth over his skin. 

This was a night for magic and Adam was going to steal as much of it as he could.


	21. The harsh light of day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday!! Have some angst!! 
> 
> I'm sorry I'm just throwing chapters at ye at the moment! I'm writing them and I'm in the habit of posting and then writing the next and so once it's written it's posted so its a cycle and I've just written a lot this weekend so sorry for putting up three chapters in like four days! 
> 
> Anyway, all the fluff in the last chapter obviously leads to angst because these poor, soft boys are idiots. Even I feel bad for Ronan in the chapter. Someone hug him please. 
> 
> Thank you as always for comments and kudos and you're ALL THE ABSOLUTE BEST.

Ronan woke with stiff bones and cold skin. It was actually the shivering that jolted him from his dreams. The sky above him was a blue so pale it was almost white. Barely-there sunshine licked some warmth back into his muscles. He blinked grit and streaming tears from his eyes, moving his head back and forth to ease the ache in his neck. Birds called to each other in the trees. Leaves sang out a melody with the light breeze. 

Ronan dragged in a long inhale of chill morning air and exhaled a short burst of warm air. It rose above him like a cloud. He could not remember falling asleep. He’d been staring at the stars, throat dry because Adam's hand was in his, and he knew he was getting tired, and he knew he should make them go in, but he was frozen. He didn't want to let go of Adam's warm fingers but he was scared going inside would mean going further. More than anything Ronan wanted to kiss Adam. More than anything the thought terrified him. 

Because Adam was spectacular. 

Listening to him and Gansey talk was an exercise in overwhelming intelligence. Ronan knew he was just a soldier, a grunt with a gun, but Adam, _Adam_ , had grown up in a trailer park and attended Aglionby, had two degrees, and had survived some form of abuse. Adam was incredible and smart and wonderful. He was brave and kind and patient. He fucking gave as good as he got. And that was all before Ronan thought about his elegant cheekbones, his sandy blonde hair, his long limbs, his guarded movements, and his sometimes soft, easy smile. 

Adam groaned beside Ronan. 

Ronan had been too scared to look at him before now but he forced himself to turn his stiff neck, “Fucking morning, Parrish.”

“What time did we fall asleep?” Adam voice was thick with sleep and the rasp of it ran soft chills down Ronan's skin. 

“Around dawn, I think.” He went to rub his hand across his hair and realised they were still holding hands. “Shit, sorry.” 

A light blush coloured the sharp cheekbones. “No, it's fine. I shouldn't have. It was the beer. We're… we're friends. New friends and I don't wanna wreck that…” He took a deep breath and swallowed audibly. “Shit. I just… Ronan…”

Ronan pushed down the disappointment thrumming in his ears and forced the worst smile he owned onto cruel lips. “Don't fucking worry about it.” He sat up and cracked his neck. His shoulder hurt so much, the pain had spread across his back, up his neck and down both his arms. His head was banging like a drum set. He bit his lip to subdue the hiss crawling up his throat. “Let's get back to the fucking house.” 

The bonfire was just ash and embers, but even still Ronan poured a bucket of water over it. One of Niall Lynch's strangest qualities had been his obsession with fire safety. They had never built a bonfire without at least two buckets of water beside it. They had fire pits dug deep around the grounds surrounded by sand to stop the grass catching during the dry Virginia summers. Niall insisted they check the fire was out three times before they left it. Ronan poked the remains with a stick, turning over wet ash and blackened logs to ensure there were no more sparks, and then he threw the second bucket over it. 

“Fire conscious?” 

“Just like dad taught me.” He took a deep breath and buried his feeling deep. Obviously Adam didn't want him like that. Fucking obviously. “Come on then, let's go see if Blue devoured Gansey whole or turned him into some sort of vampire slave.” 

“She rarely devours them whole any more,” Adam said with a smile in his voice. “She's says it's hell on her digestion.”

“Vampiric slave it is.” He'd managed not to look at Adam throughout the exchange. Instead he kicked sand onto the already extinguished fire, and then back to Adam, he started to walk towards the house. 

Adam followed with heavy steps rustling through too long grass. “So, what's your plan for the weekend?” 

Ronan hated the easiness between them was gone. Awkwardness sat between them like the third member of the saying _three's a crowd_. Ronan smirked. Fucking of course. “Nothing interesting, Parrish. Nothing fucking interesting.”

Neither of them said anything else. 

Declan’s car was just pulling into the driveway when they climbed the fence to the yard. Matthew bounded out of the barely stopped car and threw his arms around Ronan with a force that shuddered through his already aching body. 

“Ronan.” He said his name like _gift_ or _homecoming_. “I thought you were…” The breath he took was too close to tears. “You know what? It's great to see you.” 

Ronan blinked away on his own wet eyes and squeezed Matthew one more time before pushing him away. “Shut up, man. I'm fine.” 

“Alright, pal,” he replied, wiping his eyes dry. “Who's this?” Matthew turned the full power of his smile on Adam who blinked in surprise. 

“Hey, I'm Adam.” Adam held out his hand and Matthew cheerfully took it. “Ronan’s… friend.” 

Ronan clenched his teeth at the word friend. What-the-fuck-ever. It was not like he even fucking cared. It was not like he deserved good things. Not after everything. Adam and Matthew started talking colleges, and since he had nothing to add to that conversation, _nothing but a fucking soldier_ , he walked towards Declan who was leaning against his car. 

“You got here early?”

“Like I said, Matthew was excited. Got me up at dawn.” He looked past Ronan. “That Adam?”

Ronan nodded and leaned beside him. He still smelt the same; too much cologne and new car. “That is Adam.” The sentence contained a full stop he didn't know he was carrying, one he didn't yet understand. He just knew that was _Adam_. 

Declan glanced over at him and back to Adam. “You got it bad, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up, man.” Ronan snarled. 

Declan laughed. “Really bad then.”

Ronan couldn't help but grin at how Declan ignored his cursing now. Just accepted it as part of his vocabulary. He stared at his dirty bare feet when he mumbled, “Doesn't matter anyway, he doesn’t feel the same way.” 

Declan was silent for a few minutes, watching Adam and Matthew talk. “Well, fuck him then. You're a fucking catch.”

“Oh piss off, Dec.”

Declan laughed and thankfully changed the subject, “Thought you were feeding us today.” 

“Come the fuck inside then.” He pushed off the car. “It's just cold BBQ food for breakfast. You're too early for anything else.” 

Declan pushed himself off the car and examined the yard. “I like what you've done with the place by the way.”

Ronan grinned at the remains of the party. They'd cleaned up the food and drinks but the decorations and the paddling pool and games all lay around the yard in colorful piles. “It's fucking fun. Got personality.”

“Once I get to beat you at tennis later.” Declan kicked a tennis ball at Matthew's runner to get his attention. 

“Even with my fucked up shoulder,” Ronan said, following him off the car. “You know that isn't happening.”

Declan turned suddenly and pulled him into a hug that would have rivalled Matthew's. “Thank you for coming back to us.” Ronan hated that Declan's voice was thick with tears. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He hated that his voice was sounded the same. He held Declan tighter than he had in years before pushing him off gently. “Come on. Let's go get some food.”

Matthew beamed at them when they released each other. “Guys, I’m starving. Someone feed me.” He started toward the house, assuming the others would follow him. 

Obviously they did. 

Declan glanced over to Adam as they walked. “Since Ronan isn't introducing us, I'm Declan.”

“Adam, nice to meet you.” A hint of his Henrietta twang slipped out which meant he was nervous. 

Ronan wasn't sure why Adam would be nervous meeting his brother, or worse, when he'd learned that fact about Adam. He wasn't sure he liked knowing it. It felt intimate, like real friendship. Like more than friendship. He pushed the feelings down again. Fucking whatever. “And now we all fucking know each other.”

Adam flinched just enough for Ronan to notice. 

“Ronan is never his most polite in the morning,” Declan soothed. 

Adam grinned. “Is Ronan ever polite?”

Declan laughed a loud noise that echoed across the yard. 

Adam blushed. 

Ronan kicked a tennis racket abandoned by the house. “Let's just fucking eat.”

“I'll go wake Gansey and Blue,” Adam said, hands tucked into his pockets and sounding suddenly unsure. He left with one last glance back at Ronan. 

Declan nudged Ronan. “He definitely doesn't not like you.”

Ronan ducked his head and didn't bother to answer. 

Breakfast was a noisy, messy affair. Gansey and Blue sat beside each other, passing comments and maintaining contact whenever they could. Gansey didn't stop smiling the whole meal. Blue kept nudging him and whispering little comments into his ear. Ronan decided they'd keep her. She made Gansey smile in a way he'd only ever seen Glendower achieve. Ronan liked that; Gansey deserved someone. Especially with a screwed up best friend like him. 

Matthew sat to his left beside Adam. They talked about college and books and lectures and the pain of group projects and how annoying TA’s were. Gansey joined in sometimes, and so did Declan, so Ronan was glad when Blue rolled her eyes at him in camaraderie. She also hadn't attended college which made him feel a tiny bit less useless. It had never bothered him not going to college. He'd always felt proud being in the army, doing something so important. It was hard now though to grasp the importance when everything had been stolen from him. 

Ronan tuned out the conversation when they moved onto the college dating scene. He did not need to here how popular Adam was. Not when he'd just been rejected by him in the most embarrassing way. He just didn't understand why. Adam had taken his hand first; Ronan was sure of it. Although maybe he'd totally misread it and it was an accident and then Ronan had taken his full hand and Adam was too polite to take it back. 

Ronan stared at the table, willing his blush away. 

Chill air hit the back of his neck. “You're cute when you blush,” Noah said. 

Ronan tried to remember how to breathe. 

When his face calmed down, and the impending panic attack had been pushed down through pure force of will, he glanced back up. Declan sat to his right, quietly eating and watching everyone with hawk eyes. He had a contented smile on his face. Ronan understood why; it was exactly like the breakfasts they used to have when they were a family. Loud. Boisterous. Everyone talking over each other. Easy laughter. Happy faces. 

Ronan swallowed coffee around the lump in his throat. 

“This is nice.” Noah was leaning against the wall behind Blue, blood ran from his face and neck. “You should tell them I'm here. I'm sure they'd want to know.” He looked wrong, ghoulish and distorted.

Ronan choked on his coffee, struggling to gasp in a breath between coughs. 

“Ha, loser,” Noah whispered in his ear and Ronan was sure he felt the drip if blood onto his shoulder 

He coughed some more, scratched his shoulder clean of nothing and blinked away tears. The table went silent as they all looked towards them. He waved away their concern. “Went down the wrong way,” he croaked out. He took another sip of coffee when he could and cleared the last coughing from his throat. 

Declan was examining him. Noah was laughing at him. Ronan felt like his face was on fire. He ducked his face and pretended he was eating. 

The end of the meal could not come quick enough.

“So how are you really doing?” Declan asked later that day as they say in the porch drinking beers and watching Matthew hit a tennis ball against the side of the house.

Ronan considered the most honest way to answer. The sun had finally woken up and he'd left his sunglasses by the bonfire. He squinted at his brother and said, “Shoulder hurts a lot of the time.” 

The _bang bang bang_ of the ball was making him twitchy; desperate for cover and the static of his regiment in his ear. He wanted the weight of a gun in his hands and the heavy protection of his helmet. He was hiding his reactions as best his could, taking out his anxiety on the label of his beer bottle. 

“You doing the exercises?”

Ronan looked over at him. “How'd you know I'm meant to be doing exercises?”

“I'm not an idiot, Ronan. You get injured, you get exercises. Remember that time I hurt my back?” Declan opened another two beers and handed him one. “Fuck, have you even gone to see a doctor since you got back?”

Ronan just shrugged and took a long drag of beer. 

“I'm not getting at ya.” Declan sighed. “Honestly. I'm just… You need to look after yourself.”

Ronan grunted, hating how scared Declan sounded. “How's Ashley?”

“Still pregnant,” Declan replied, allowing the change of subject. “She's suffering with her back, and hey, guess what? Morning sickness doesn't just last during the first trimester. No one mentions how terrible pregnancy actually is.” He sounded like he wanted to punch something. “I can't help thinking-” he took a shuddering breath. “-I just wish mam was here, ya know? She was always so good with the herbal shit.”

Ronan laughed. “She'd know exactly what to give Ash.” He tapped Declan on the shoulder, squeezing it. “I’ll see if I can find her notebooks. They might have something in them.” 

The look of appreciation his brother shot his way made Ronan's heart ache. “Thanks.”

Roban shrugged. “Bring her down next time. The clean country air will do her the world of good.”

“City isn't that bad, Ronan.”

“The city is full of yuppies and dickheads. It's the worst place there is, Dec.”

Declan just laughed. “All right then, I won't expect you over for Christmas.”

Ronan blinked the sun out of his eyes and rolled the chill bottle between his hands. “I was kinda thinking, maybe, and obviously if it'd be too much with the baby and all, but I thought we'd have Christmas here.” He kept staring at his beer, too scared to see what expression was on Declan's face. 

“Yeah, I mean I'd have to talk to Ashley but I'd like that.” 

Ronan swallowed and continued, “I was thinking also maybe we could do the spare room up like as a nursery or a bedroom so the baby has somewhere to stay?” 

“I'm definitely up for a family Christmas,” Matthew interrupted, climbing the stairs and joining in the conversation. “I don't care where.”

Ronan had never been so grateful for his little brothers lack of timing. “Once you're being fed, right?” 

Matthew laughed and grabbed a beer from the cooler. “Speaking of which, I'm starving. Someone light up the BBQ and let's have burgers.”


	22. Spread your wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write so sorry if it's not great. Poor Ronan. 
> 
> Yes. It's a Ronan POV because let's leave Adam to struggle for a bit longer. 
> 
> Thanks you for the _lovely lovely lovely_ comments. You're all making my day quite regularly

Ronan woke on Monday morning with an ache in his stomach. He lay for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling. He'd never done therapy before. He didn't know what to expect so anxiety crawled across his skin like spiders. Sighing, he threw his feet off the bed and jumped. “What the fuck?” 

Noah sat on the end of the bed, blood falling from his neck and face. It pooled in his hands and leaked through his fingers. He watched Ronan with blank eyes. “Do you think stress is making your hallucinations worse?”

“Shut the fuck up, man.”

Noah smiled, teeth crimson. “I’m just saying I don't usually look like a horror movie victim.”

“Please, man. Just today. Please just give me a fucking break.” He rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “I just can't today.” 

The bed shifted and Noah leaned into him; warm and safe and smelling like home. The blood poured over Ronan's legs and his stomach spasmed. 

“It's not me. It's you," Noah whined. "If you want me to leave, you've gotta get better.”

“I'm trying,” Ronan sobbed, sudden tears falling thick and fast, choking him. When he opened his eyes again, the blood was gone from his legs.

Noah pawed at his stubbled head awkwardly. “I know you are, man. I know.”

Ronan got up stiffly, rolling his shoulder and threw on some sweats and a t-shirt. Noah followed him down to the kitchen and watched him as he made pancakes for his brothers, set the table and made coffee. They were leaving early to _beat the traffic_. Declan was obsessed with beating traffic despite the fact he drove like an old age pensioner. 

He could hear his brothers moving around upstairs. He looked over at Noah. “Just give me this morning, okay?” 

“Don't think about me then,” Noah said tiredly. “Take some breaths.” He rubbed Ronan's back, and as he watched Noah slowly came back to himself, blood fading and face getting some colour again. “Close your eyes. Focus. You're okay, yeah?” 

Ronan nodded, closing his eyes and just breathing. When he opened his eyes, Noah was gone. He took one more shaky breath and went back to making breakfast. 

“You'll call us if you need anything?” Matthew said into his shoulder in the longest hug ever. “Because I just finished finals and my internship is boring.” 

“Yeah, man, I'll call ya.” Ronan pushed him free from the hug, but kept him close, gripping his shoulders. “You'll come visit me?”

“Every weekend. Obviously.” Matthew hugged him again. “I'll see you soon.” He climbed into the car and made funny faces through the glass.

Ronan laughed and made one back. 

Declan came out and threw his bag into the boot of the car. He slammed it closed and Ronan flinched. Declan's eyes narrowed, “You okay?”

The words were there on his tongue, fully formed and heavy. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. He tried again. They fell to the ground, smashing like glass. He sighed, “Yeah, man. I'm fine.”

Declan examined him. “We're here, okay? Me, Matthew and Ash.” He hugged him. “You'll call?” 

Ronan wiped a rough hand over his eyes. “Yeah, I'll call. You'll visit?”

“Whenever we can.” 

They hugged again. 

Ronan tried not to flinch as the engine hummed to life. Tried not to cry when they pulled away. He sat on the stairs of the porch and watched the empty driveway long after they'd disappeared. It was only half seven and he had endless hours ahead of him. The broken window of his car judged him silently. Adam had said he'd fix it, had reminded him before he left on Saturday morning, but Ronan wasn't sure if he could face him yet. The rejection was still too fresh. 

The tiny inklings of hope he'd been discovering these last few weeks had faded away like fog on a hot morning. He needed more time to readjust his idea of their friendship. If Adam didn't want him that was fine. Ronan still wanted the other man to be his friend. He just had to reframe the image. He glanced one last time at the broken window and went back to bed. 

Ronan stood outside 300 Foxway, hands in his pockets and sun beating down. The heat burnt the back of his neck. The black tank he wore stuck to his skin. He already regretted his jeans. 

He still hadn't knocked. 

He'd been here for fifteen minutes but he couldn't seem to get his hands to leave his pockets. Noah lazed on the porch beside him, sighing every now and again. 

“I'm bored.”

“Shut up,” Ronan said through gritted teeth. “Just give me a second.”

Noah glanced up at him, smirking, “You've had fifteen minutes worth of seconds. Stop being a loser.” 

Ronan knocked. 

The door flung open after the first tap of his fist. “Finally. We weren't sure if you'd come in. I'm Maura.” The first think Ronan noticed was that she looked a little like Blue. The second was she was in her bare feet. “We'll be in here today.”

He followed her, shoulders slumped and hands in his pockets. He was so uncomfortable it felt like his skin was tightening across his muscles. He took in shallow breaths, and taking one hand from his pocket, he chewed on his bands.

The room they were in was a conglomeration of styles; black and white pictures, mismatched furniture, a large window shining in the bitter sun, and too many chairs. The ceiling was so low, it grazed his head. Maura flipped a sign on the door to _in session_ , sat on an armchair and directed him to a couch. He slouched down, long legs almost tipping the opposite wall. 

She took out a clipboard and a pen. “There's a form you'll need to fill out but you can do that after.” She flipped a page on the clipboard. “I'm going to assess you and figure out who you should be with from now on.”

Ronan nodded. There was a glass a water beside him, and he desperately wanted to take a sip, but his hands were shaking, and he didn't want Maura to read into it and assume he was crazy or something. He was so thirsty, his tongue was sticking to roof of his mouth. The trembling in his fingers was travelling up his arms and irritating his shoulder. “Go ahead,” he said and coughed to clear his throat. 

Maura took a drink of her water and nodded him to do the same. “Okay, so tell me why you're here.”

After he drank half the glass, he said with a smirk, “My phone call wasn't fucking clear enough?”

Maura laughed. “Not quite.”

“I got shot when I was over in Syria. They, the army, discharged me. My shoulder basically, I dunno, exploded or whatever.” He rolled his shoulder as he spoke and then rubbed it with his thumb. “So, I've been struggling.”

“In what way?” Maura asked after she finished writing some notes on her bright red clipboard. 

That clipboard was going to haunt Ronan's dreams. “I'm scared. Like all the time. Not of being shot or anything. But it's like I'm waiting, you know?”

“For what?”

Ronan paused. “I dunno. The next bombing or the next alert, my next assignment. I dunno. I'm just fucking scared.” He rubbed a shaking hand down his face. 

“Is there anything else?”

“Blue said I was having flashbacks and panic attacks.”

“Do you think she's right?”

He nodded. “I guess so.”

Noah stood in the corner of the room and snorted. “Fucking right she is.”

Ronan closed his eyes and breathed for a few minutes. Maura let him. “I can't sleep. Not really.”

“Nightmares?”

He still had his eyes closed and he nodded. If he opened them, he knew he was going to cry. “It's every night. I'm back there. Every fucking night.”

“What do you want to achieve from the therapy?”

“I don't wanna feel this way anymore. I want to feel like myself again.” He blinked away tears and looked at her. “Can you help?”

“We can try.” She looked down at the notes she'd made. “It'll be hard work.”

“Can't be worse than bootcamp, m'dam.”

She chuckled. “Do I look old enough to be called madam?”

“No, mam.”

Maura laughed so hard Ronan had to join in. She shook her head and smiled at him. “You soldier boys are all the same. Endlessly polite and horribly disrespectful.”

Ronan grinned at her. “Thank you, mam.” 

She smirked at him. “I have just the woman for you. Are you up for meeting you terapist today?”

“It won't be you?”

“I'm not as qualified for your situation as Calla is.” 

She left the room and Ronan was alone with Noah. He was bleeding again. Gurgling on blood as it surged up his throat and fell from his mouth. His eyes were wide, darting from Ronan's face to the blood streaming into his hands and down to the ground. Gasping breaths echoed through the room. 

Ronan slammed his eyes shut, and breathing deep, counted to ten. When he opened his eyes, Noah was gone. Dragging the heel of his hands across his wet eyes, he leaned back into the soft material of his chair and let out a shuddering breath. He missed when things were easy. 

“Ronan?”

His head lolled around and he looked at the newcomer. She took up most of the doorway and her dark skin shone in the dull light of the room. When she stepped forward, Ronan tried not to gape at the slash of purple that were her lips and how they matched her purple hair. 

“Calla?”

She sat down in front of him and examined in a way that made him feel like she was reading his mind. “I want to do two sessions a week to start off. I need you to fill out this journal on a daily basis." She nodded at a notebook tucked under her arm. "It's got exercises we'll work through together, okay?”

Ronan nodded, reminded of Sargent Riggs. Hardcore and terrifying. “Anything else?” He asked gruffly. 

“You've to keep this bird alive for the length of our sessions.”

“Excuse me?” It was only then Ronan noticed the black feathers sticking from her enclosed hands. “The fuck is that?”

“It's your new buddy. It got kicked out of its nest. You got kicked out of the army," Calla said with pure sarcasim. "Bond or something.” 

Ronan smirked something lethal. She grinned back with her own type of venom. 

“Fine.” When she handed the baby bird to him, it weighed of nothing. In his cupped hands, the bird stared up at him, chirping like she was unimpressed. “Not having the best day? I know that fucking feeling.”

The bird chirped. 

“What's her name?”

“Up to you,” Calla responded 

“Chainsaw.” 

“Alright then.” Calla barked out a laugh. “We're done for today. What time Friday suits?”

“Whatever. Not like I've anything fucking going on.”

“Half eleven it is. Fill out this form and give it to Maura on the way out.” She handed him a notebook, and then seeing his hands were full, slipped it under his arm. “Three good things about being home. Track any flashbacks and panic attacks you have. Record any anomalies. Okay?”

He nodded. “Em, have you… Do people get better from this?” 

“All the time, Ronan. All the time.”

He went to Nino's after, not ready to be alone and not wanting to see Noah again. Blue was leaning against the register when he walked in. Dressed in fishnet tights, ripped shorts, Doc Martens and what looked like four ripped tank tops covered in skulls and roses, she looked like some sort of nightmare creature. Some of the tension eased from his soldiers. He didn't know when it happened but Blue had become a safe place. She was the only one who knew almost everything. 

No one knew about Noah. No one would ever know. 

“Ronan, hey. Food?”

He nodded and followed her through to a booth right at the back of the restaurant. She waved at him when he tried to order, writing something on her notebook and wandering off. He shrugged, allowing himself to trust her. He held Chainsaw in one open hand as he waited, and Googled how in hell's name he was meant to look after a baby raven. 

When Blue returned with a pizza and sweet tea, she burst out laughing. “Calla finally found someone to take the bird, eh?”

“Been struggling with it?”

“Days Ronan, it's been days of chirping and bitching and midnight feedings.” Blue sat down and took a bite of pizza. “So how'd the first session go?”

Ronan examined her. “How'd you know?”

Blue just stared down at Chainsaw and then back up at him. 

He made a little nest of tissues for Chainsaw and rested the tiny bird in it, and took a slice of pizza. “It was… Exhausting.”

She nodded. “Well first steps and all that.”

“Don't tell anyone. Gansey."

“Obviously.” She took a sip of his drink. “You should talk to Adam about it.”

Ronan's heart dropped. “Why?”

“Not my place to say but he would be worth opening up to.”

Ronan wanted to ask more, wanted to know more, but he wanted it to come from Adam himself. “I'll think about it.”

Blue nodded. 

They finished the food in silence and Blue stood up. She waved away his attempts to pay. “It was my break. Free pizza.” She bumped his fist. “If you need anything.”

“Thanks, maggot.”

“Go away now, asshole.”

Picking up Chainsaw, he left and headed to the pet shop. Supplies were needed and then he'd go annoy Gansey for the evening.


	23. When do the good things start happening?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit short but you'll be pleased to know (I assume) that the next chapter is also Adam! 
> 
> Your messages and kudos and subscriptions and bookmarks? 
> 
> MWAH *kissy faces*

Adam woke in crappy form.

It was a mood built from a long week. Like the first stirrings of winter, it splintered ice along his heart and spread through him limbs. 

God. He was _tired_. 

He checked the time on his phone, noting it was way too early for him to be awake considering he'd only managed to fall asleep an hour before. He examined the empty screen. Ronan hadn’t talked to him all week. He _was_ reading the messages in the group chat though, much to Adam's annoyance, because the ticks were blue. Seen by all.

Not once did he bother to reply.

It was like a itch at the back of Adam's brain. He knew it was his fault. He'd messed up that morning with his lack of words; his emotions a knot he'd never managed to untangle. He wasn't sure if he’d ever figure them out.

He realised now, after a week of logical thinking and clear rationalising, that he should’ve explained that friend meant _not yet_ rather than _not ever_.

The crappy mood expanded through his chest. He sat up and rubbed a hand down his face. It wasn't just Ronan though. Not really. Sure, that bit at him throughout the day but not enough to totally ruin his week. Realistically, Ronan would stop sulking and be friends with him again. 

Adam spat the word out in his mind, _friends_. He wasn't sure yet what he wanted from Ronan but _just friends_ was definitely not it. 

The real cause of his crappy mood was an email he'd received at the start of the week; an annual alumni catch-up. They'd contacted Adam for some information but he'd hadn't gotten back to them. Couldn't think of anything worse than telling them what he was doing now. He'd even forgotten they'd asked until the brightly coloured email arrived in his inbox as a glaring reminder of how little he'd achieved. He'd read it as some form of punishment; his friends had completed internships, had spent the year travelling and were doing their PHD’s. 

Adam had swallowed the information like a bitter pill. Of course everyone was doing amazingly. Of course they were. And somehow, he was here in Henrietta exactly where he started. 

The crappy mood worsened; a dark storm that brewed under his skin and ate into any goodness the day could've brought. He dressed in his overalls and left his too hot apartment for a too hot day. 

He was the first to arrive at the garage which was good. He needed coffee and silence after a night spent staring at a ceiling that had no answers or comfort. While his coffee brewed, he switched on the computer and set out his day. He had so much to catch up on he'd be in the office all day. It suited him well enough since he was not in the humour for people. 

He was just finishing his second coffee when he heard the team arrive. Jessie's booming voice echoed through the building, assigning jobs and laughing at jokes. A few minutes later, he knocked on Adam's office door. 

“BROUGHT YOU A BAGEL AND A COFFEE.” He dropped the food on his desk and handed him the piping hot coffee. “KNEW YOU WOULDN'T HAVE EATEN.”

“Thanks.” Something warm flooded Adam, pushing back the cold. “You didn't have to do that.”

“COURSE I DID. WE ALL KNOW YOU WORK TOO HARD.” Jessie stood at the door examining him. “WHAT TIME DID YOU START AT?”

“About half six. Couldn't sleep.”

“WELL. GREAT. YOU'LL BE FINISHED AT HALF TWO THEN.”

Adam grimaced. “You know that's not why I started early.”

“COURSE NOT BUT UNION RULES STATE…”

Adam laughed and waved him away. “Fine. Fine. I'll be out by half two.” 

“TWO IF YOU DON'T TAKE A BREAK.”

“Okay. I'll eat lunch as well.”

Jessie nodded, satisfied. “YOU DOING ORDERS AND THE LIKE?” 

“I'll be in here all day.” 

Jessie's booming laugh echoed through the small room. “ENJOY THAT. I'LL BE DOWNSTAIRS.”

Adam left the garage at two, because of course he hadn't stopped for lunch, and of course Jessie had come quoting union rules at him until he left. As he walked out, the familiar roar of the BMW’s engine filled the air. Parking at a needlessly aggressive angle, Ronan's long, graceful body emerged. 

Grinning at Adam, he said, “You still a good enough mechanic to fix my window, shitbag?”

“You still a shitty enough person to make me regret it if I don't?” 

Ronan smirked and threw the keys at him. “Do you mind fixing it?”

“Nah, it's fine. It'll only take me half an hour. You can sit in the waiting room if ya want?”

“Nope,” he answered and opened the passenger door. “I'd rather watch.” 

Adam set to work, hyper aware of the other man beside him. Ronan sat in the passenger seat, chewing on his bands, and staring out the window. Despite saying he wanted to watch, he seemed to be too distracted to actually care what Adam was doing. Even Adam's few attempts at conversation were met with grunts. It meant half of Adams attention was on the job and the other half kept stealing glances at Ronan whenever he could.

Adam had never seen him so still or so calm. Tension was still written across his shoulders and in the bunched muscles of his arms, and yet, he seemed less heavy. Like he'd rid himself of something that was weighing him down. Adam desperately wanted to know what damage he'd overcome while they weren't talking. He desperately wanted to know what Ronan had done for the week. He desperately _wanted_. 

Something loud and terrifying screamed from the back seat. Adam jumped and whirled around. “What the fuck was that?” 

“It's my pet raven,” Ronan said, turning around and opening a cage. After some fluttering and screeching, he emerged with a tiny baby bird. “Chainsaw, Adam. Adam, Chainsaw.”

Adam waved weakly. “Hey, I guess.”

Chainsaw screeched again.

"Where'd you get a bird?"

Ronan just shrugged in response. “She must be hungry.” He took out a lunch bag of grey mush and proceeded to feed the tiny creature cradled in his hands. 

Adam watched for a minute, examining the gentle way Ronan had with the bird, and the kind, patient way he coaxed Chainsaw into eating. Feeling like he was learning something important about him, something Adam couldn't yet understand, he turned his attention back to the door. 

When he was done, and Chainsaw was back in her cage, Adam leaned back in the driver's seat running his hands along the steering wheel _wishing wishing wishing_ for so many things. He rested his feet on the pedals and imagined this was his car. He could feel Ronan's eyes on him; the first time the other man had allowed himself to look. Something scrapped at Adam; that was his fault. 

“You know how to drive stick?”

Adam shook his head. 

“You're off now, right?" Ronan asked. "Let's go to Monmouth and I'll teach you.”

Disbelief itched at him. “You'll let me drive?”

“Once you don't fucking destroy the transmission, sure why the fuck not?”

The first real smile of the week graced Adam's lips. “Okay, I'll drop my car home, change and we can go from there?”

Ronan nodded his agreement. “Lead the way, Parrish.”

The apartment was embarrassingly small when he let Ronan in. Adam fought hard not to compare it to The Barns. He failed as he looked around the barren space. This was a room filled with what was lacking; no real furniture, no pictures of family or friends, no personality, no homeliness, no memories. The Barns was proof of life. It was a loving family and a history. It was being looked after and bedtime stories and adventures and safety.

The Barns was a home. Adam's apartment was a mockery. 

Ronan couldn't even fit probably. He had to stand in the very centre of the room to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. 

“Make yourself at home,”Adam said weakly and went into the bathroom to change. He leaned against the edge of the sink for a few minutes, listening to Ronan coo to Chainsaw. Once the burning shame had faded, he washed quickly, got changed and brushed his teeth. His stomach grumbled. He hadn't eaten since the bagel Jessie gave him. 

“Your phone's ringing,” Ronan said when he left the bathroom. He was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him watching Chainsaw attempt to crawl up his thighs. 

Adam sat on the edge of his mattress and answered the phone.

“Adam Parrish? This is June Parker. I'm part of the billing department in your mother's care home.” 

“Hello, Mrs Parker.” Dread began to pound an uneven rhythm along his bones. “How can I help you?”

“Unfortunately, Mr Parrish, due to the worsening of your mother's condition, the cost of her care has increased and your insurance does not cover the new medication.”

Adam groaned. “How much more is it?”

“Another three hundred dollars a month.”

A quick calculation told Adam he could just about afford that and rent and eating. _Just about_. There went his ability to save though. “You can add it to the monthly direct debit. Do I owe you any back payments?” 

“Unfortunately, because it took so long to sort it out with your insurance company, there is three months unpaid on your mother's account.”

“I owe you nine hundred dollars?” He couldn't keep the desperation from his voice. 

Ronan’s head shot up at his words. Adam looked down at his knees, face burning.

"Yes, unfortunately it adds up to nine hundred dollars," she said, at least having the decency to sound regretful.

Adam blinked his eyes closed. Almost half his savings. “Can I drop you in a check during the week?”

“That would be perfect, Mr Parrish.” Mrs Parker sounded genuinely relieved the news at been taken so well. 

Adam guessed her job wasn't easy. “Thanks for letting me know. Have a good weekend.”

She wished him well and hung up. 

Adam flopped back on the bed. Nine hundred dollars. An extra three hundred a month. Tears prickled at his eyes. This was not his fucking week. 

“You okay?”

“Can you take me somewhere... Away... From here?” 

There was a brief pause before Ronan said, “Get in my fucking car, Parrish. I'll take you anywhere you want to go.”


	24. Let's just run away together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was writing this chapter like _oh this is gonna be so short just a drop in the ocean barely a thing_ *keeps writing* 
> 
> Sorry for the whole load of calculations at the start of the chapter. I hate it when characters are like _I'm so broke_ but then we don't find out how broke. I'm like _tell me tell me tell me_.
> 
> This might be my favourite chapter so far so I hope you all enjoy it <3
> 
> Also metions of canon level abuse and discussions of how it's affected Adam; so no actual abuse flashbacks or violence but more like _here's how I dealt with it and how i am currently dealing with it_. 
> 
> Thanks as always for comments, kudos and love <3

They drove for hours. 

Out past the school runs and the soccer moms, through the evening commute and along emptying highways. They got food in a drive-thru and ate it while meandering down bumpy back roads. The sun set in a blaze of fiery reds, lighting the sky orange and pink, until it burned out and left only an ocean of navy. 

They drove in silence. 

Adam didn't have anything to say. It was impossible to form words over the noise of the calculations exploding through his head. 

He earned two thousand dollars a month. Currently, a thousand of that was going to his mom's care, four hundred to rent and three hundred to savings. It was a hard life but he was just managing to live off three hundred dollars. He basically paid for food and petrol and accepted free pizza from Blue when he was desperate. 

That math was well settled in his brain. He had no freedom, no wiggle room, but he had a savings account slowly filling up with an escape fund and the possibility of a better life. Like it’d been in highschool, it was enough to keep him hanging on. 

But now when he paid money he owed the care home, he'd only have about a thousand dollars in savings. And with the extra three hundred a month for his mom's care, there was no way to add to his emergency fund. Realistically, this wouldn't be the last time his mam's medication would increase before the end and he had no choice but to pay it. 

Trapped was not a thing Adam Parrish had wanted to feel again. 

This was worse than before. He'd gotten out before. Now though, with student loans repayments starting in less than six months, and a increasingly short supply of income, Adam felt the noose around his neck tightening. Being a scholarship kid had its benefits, but it hadn't paid for everything, and soon he'd have to start giving the money back. 

He swallowed on a dry throat as the horror poured into him. He thought he was done with the struggle of being poor. He thought he'd broken free. But the thing with being poor was, it stayed with you. It was a bear trap around your ankle, and sometimes you managed to free your foot, but you were always one misstep away from being caught again. 

Adam was very close to his next bear trap. 

The calculations in his brain never stopped; a train of numbers and rational thoughts and logical processing. Moving city _after_ , his brain reminded him, would cost at least three thousand dollars between a deposit and a month's rent and food and living until his first paycheck. That meant at least another three months in Henrietta _after_.

_After_ she died. 

He ignored the pang of fear. He'd soon be an orphan. He'd soon be alone in the world. He'd been alone for a very long time, he reminded himself. This was just the final goodbye.

He did not want to spend three months in Henrietta when he was free to start his life. Free to move on. When he was finally just _free_. 

He slammed his head against the soft leather of his chair and blinked irritated tears from his eyes. Ronan glanced over but didn't say anything. He just turned on the radio; some Irish trad music that soothed the ache in Adam's heart. 

Ronan drove up twisting roads of the Virginia mountains following dirt tracks Adam could barely see. He drove carefully, a hand on the gear stick and the other on the steering wheel. One finger tapped to the rhythm of the music. Adam turned to watch him properly. Ronan noted the movement with a small grin but didn't comment. Just kept driving. 

They finally stopped at the edge of a cliff overlooking Henrietta. The city shone beneath them like Christmas. The sky stretched above them, unbroken and unwavering. Stars above and stars below. It felt like some sort of magic existed here, ready to forgive or punish. It felt like it could be dangerous except Ronan was right there beside him, and that felt, for better or worse, incredibly safe. 

Ronan opened his door. “Come on then, Parrish. Let's admire what _away_ looks like.” He emphasised the word like he understood Adam exactly. 

Adam followed him from the car without a word. 

The night was heavy with summer heat. Cicadas sang to each other in the long grass and owl calls rang out. Flowers scented the air. Each inhale tingled his nostrils and coated his tongue in perfume. When he looked over, Ronan was already watching him, but he glanced away when he saw Adam notice. 

Adam barely felt the frustration at this; not when everything else was clouding his mind. He just wished he could tell Ronan it was okay to steal glances; he didn't mind. It never felt like he was taking anything. If Adam was being honest with himself, which he rarely was, it felt like every glance from Ronan gifted him with something he didn't quite understand yet. 

“Hood. Sit,” Ronan said, tapping his BMW. The sound echoed around the clearing. He waited until Adam was up on the sloping metal and then made sure to sit with enough space between them that Adam understood there would be no touching tonight. “This okay?”

Adam nodded, wordless and grateful. 

When he was younger, he'd had his autonomy stolen again and again. Sometimes school or work, sometimes his mother or college. Mostly by a father who’d taught him from a young age that his body was not his own and that his words held no power. He'd taken pieces of Adam with fists and words and cruel glances. Adam never had a choice in any of it. All he'd learnt was that people take, the world takes, and often, it's without permission. 

And yet, here was Ronan, listening to what he’d said about being friends, and respecting it. It made his heart ache in a way that wasn't pain. It was relief. It was joy. It was gratitude. He wasn't sure if he'd ever felt something like this before and it made him so nervous his stomach churned. 

No one had ever cared enough to listen. No one had ever cared enough to learn. No one had ever made him feel this valued. Not in a relationship way. Blue and her family were the only exception and even then it had taken practice and conversations and so many words. They had taken him in as one of their own. It was a different type of love that allowed them to care for him. With Ronan, it felt like a gift.

He'd said he wanted to be friends. 

Ronan was giving him friendship.

Adam didn't like to think of himself as an abuse victim. He was a survivor through and through. He was a beating heart broken so many times it was unrecognisable. It had been destroyed by too many betrayals by the people who were meant to love him and care for him and keep him safe. It was damaged, sometimes he thought beyond repair. He was the discussion of a overwrought brain and an exercise in muscles and blood. Working together, they walked him away from the detonation site that had been his life in the trailer park. They did that everyday of his life. He was a set of hands and a partially functional set of ears that made bargains to keep him moving forward. 

He was a survivor who's most important asset was his word and his body. Never again would anyone take them from him. 

Autonomy was all he ever wanted. 

It was his most claimed prize, above career and money. They were important because they were the proof of his success. The proof he had escaped. The proof he had power over his own life. Control over his own choices. No one would _ever ever ever_ take that from him again. 

Adam dragged himself from the clamour of his thoughts. He wiped the tears falling, unwanted. Bit his lip to stop the trembling. Wrapped his arms around himself and stared out at Henrietta. It really was beautiful; glittering in some untold magic. Up here, Adam's problems felt less like they were going to eat him alive. He could stare down at the city and see how unimportant they were and how passable. He'd be able to do this. He had already done it once. He'd get out again.

“It makes it seem smaller, right?” Ronan said quietly. “Like maybe it's not as fucking claustrophobic as we think it is.”

Adam nodded. “Is that why you took me up here?”

Ronan played with the bands on his wrist. “Nah, I was fucking going this way.”

Adam snorted. “Nice, Lynch.”

Ronan huffed out a laugh but didn't look at Adam. He just kept moving the leather bands back and forth on pale skin. “Sometimes I get… overwhelmed, I guess. Like there's something chasing me, monsters with claws and talons, and I can't fucking hide and I can't fucking think.” He took a shuddering breath. “I come up here. Remind myself of how tiny it all is. Even when it's not small at all. Even when it's the worst it can be.”

Adam examined the man beside him; pale like a ghost in the dark light of the moon, dressed in black and fading around the edges. Edges that would cut him if he wasn't careful. Languid limbs and soft skin hiding a heart so kind they'd stopped twice on their drive to feed a tiny hatchling. “You pretend it's alright?”

“I fake the shit out of it, Parrish.” The laugh was as bitter as the coffee Adam had drank that morning. “I fucking lie until I can handle the truth again.” 

Adam longed to touch him but he kept his arms wrapped around his ribs. Let the pressure of them hold him together. “Does it work?

“Sometimes.” Ronan stared down at Henrietta as if assessing it for damage. “Sometimes it's all I can do to keep breathing.”

“Thanks for bringing me here.”

“Fuck man, I'll bring you further if you want.” Ronan stood and walked over to the edge of the cliff. “I'll drive you anywhere. Any time.”

Adam recognised the promise behind his words, the sincerity. “Thought you didn't lie,” he teased to ease his racing heart. 

“Exactly.” Ronan glanced back and smirked. “Fucking exactly.”


	25. Just take me out back and shoot me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first off the messages and support. You guys! I'm off sick at the moment and will continue to be for a good long while and I feel crappy lots of the time and you're just making my days less boring and blahhhhhh. So big levels of thanks <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
> 
> Tiny time jump in this chapter; about four weeks since the loveliness of the last one. Gotta get those boys being friends and then we can get more fluff. In the four weeks; Ronan has done therapy, Adam has visited his mam, Adam and Ronan have done stupid shit together for fun, Gansey is trying to write his PHD, Blue is still saving, Gansey and Blue are still Gansey and Blue, everyone hangs out together and they sometime hike and try to find Glendower. Noah is ghastly and lovely and still hanging out. Just not in this chapter. And that's you all caught up <3
> 
> Also Ronan and character development and hugs to him. Also poor soft embarrassed boy. 
> 
> Also, also my trauma understanding is very basic so it may not be totally accurate but I tried my best.

“It's trauma, Ronan. Your brain doesn't react to things the same way my brain does.” Calla leaned against the tree beside him, hot arm leaning against Ronan's sweaty one. “Your brain is stuck in fight or flight mode. The chemicals and the pathways, for lack of a better term, are all messed up.” 

Ronan huffed out a laugh. “So that's why a glass jar breaking in a fucking supermarket sent me into full panic mode?”

“It's not _just_ a jar breaking in a supermarket. You don't react rationally to unexpected noises because the damage to your brain is preventing it." Calla picked a daisy and rolled it between two fingers. “The part of your brain that deals with fear is in hyperdrive. It is overruling the bit that processes things rationally.” 

Ronan picked some sun-browned grass and tossed it onto Chainsaw’s head. She cawed _kerah_ and shook it off in aggravated rage. Ronan grinned at her. “So what does that mean? I'm fucked?” 

This was the question he'd been desperate to ask for the last four weeks. Every time he arrived at therapy, he thought today would be the day he'd find out if he’d ever get better. And every fucking time he'd chickened out. 

Calla laughed but it was a kind sound. It eased some of the tension from Ronan's shoulders. “Your prefrontal cortex has all the fun stuff like your charming personality and your ability to make those terrible decisions you insist on making. It's meant to moderate your social behaviour but we both know you're not one for social norms.”

Ronan laughed. “Fuck no.”

“So when you react in a non-normal way like what happened yesterday in the supermarket, it's because your brain is on high alert, the reactions are not being processed by the intelligent part of your brain, but by the primal part, and so..." She waved her hands through the thick air. "...panic attack and flashback and fear.” 

It took Ronan a while to accept this. The shadows of leaves danced across his legs. Chainsaw tried and failed to crawl up onto his lap. He picked her up and rubbed her head with one finger. A chill wind ran over his skin and rustled through the leaves. He sighed, “How do we fix it?”

“We rewrite the pathways and retrain the chemicals. You're a malfunctioning engine. We need to do some maintenance.”

“You really think it's gonna be that easy?”

“I hate to tell you this Ronan, but it's going to be the hardest thing you've ever done.”

Ronan laughed. “Great.”

Calla glanced at her watch. “That's it for today. Have you completed your homework?”

“Not exactly.” He avoided looking at her by cooing at Chainsaw. “I can't find the words.”

“Just one member of your family.”

“I told Blue.”

“Blue guessed because you had Chainsaw. Technically you didn't have to say the words.” Calla nudged his shoulder. “Say the words, Ronan.”

“I am in therapy. I have PTSD and trauma. I am suffering flashbacks and nightmares. I am struggling and I need help.” He took a shuddering breath. “Does it not sound a bit fucking forced?”

Calla laughed. “We'll make an actor out of you yet.” She stood and pulled him up. “Do it today. Do it now. You're all buzzed and tired and open from talking about your feelings for an hour. It'll be easier to do it now.”

Ronan swallowed. “I'll try.”

“Proud you've kept the bird alive.”

Ronan smirked. “We fucking bonded.”

When he pulled up outside Monmouth, his heart was beating so fast he could feel it in his wrists. He looked down at Chainsaw in the passenger seat. “I am in therapy. I have PTSD and trauma. I am suffering flashbacks and nightmares. I am struggling and I need help.”

Chainsaw cawed in agreement. 

“Alright, shitbag, let's do this.”

Chainsaw flew up and landed on his shoulder, further ripping his back tank. When she'd started flying two weeks before, Ronan was sure she'd leave him, but apparently what he'd said to Calla was true; they’d bonded.

Gansey was sitting at his desk, hair standing on end and tapping his fingers so hard against the keyboard it seemed to Ronan it must have personally offended him.

“You okay, man?”

Gansey jumped and twirled his chair around. “Jesus, Ronan. I didn't know you were coming over.”

Ronan grinned a violent shape. “You look like shit, Dick. When was the last time you took a break?”

“I dunno." He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and ran his hands through his hair. “I woke up about three, I think.” 

“Yeah but what time did you go to sleep at?”

Gansey yawned so wide his glasses nearly fell off his nose. “Maybe one-ish?”

“Fuck sakes man, take a fucking break.”

Gansey turned back to his computer. “Soon. I've just got to finish this section. It's due to Mallory tomorrow and I need it to be done by tonight so Adam can proof it.” 

“Adam's helping you?” 

“Well, we did only meet because of this.”

Ronan thought back to the conversation he'd overheard all those weeks before; Adam owing someone nine hundred dollars. They hadn't spoken about it since but he'd seen Adam cut back on spending. He avoided nights in Nino's and when he went rarely ate anything. He was losing weight, and there were black circles under his eyes, getting worse each week. Ronan wanted to say something, and even though, after the night on the cliff, something had shifted and they'd become closer, he knew instinctively if Adam wanted to talk about it, he would. 

Mostly now, they just hung out and did stupid things like pulling each other on dolly's and burning shit and breaking shit. Ronan scratched a collection of scabs running down his left arm. He'd been pushing a trolley with Adam in it and speeding down a hill. They'd toppled and both fallen into a pile of limbs and laugher and slightly more blood than expected. Ronan fucking loved when Adam laughed like he had that day; it was like all the worries eating at him disappeared and he was younger. 

“Are you paying him? Like the ad said you would?” 

Gansey looked surprised he remembered. “No, Adam refused from the very start. And when I tried to bring it back up a few days ago, we ended up in a massive argument. I just… Remind me not to offer money to Adam again.” 

Ronan smirked with pride. Every time he thought Adam was done impressing him, he managed to step it up a notch. 

He shook his head and looked totally lost. “Ronan, he accused me of charity. I never meant…” He put a mint leaf in his mouth and shrugged helplessly. “Maybe I do need a break.”

“I'll grab you a beer.” 

Gansey sighed, “Thanks man.”

_I am in therapy. I have PTSD and trauma. I am suffering flashbacks and nightmares. I am struggling and I need help_. Ronan repeated it as he stood in front of the cool fridge. _I am in therapy. I have PTSD and trauma. I am suffering flashbacks and nightmares. I am struggling and I need help_. Slamming the door shut, he stormed back into the main room and threw the beer down in front of Gansey. He stalked across the hardwood floors, back and forth, anger burning beneath his skin. Gansey just watched, waiting. That pissed Ronan off even worse. 

“Jesus Mary, Gansey. Look, okay…” Still the words would not leave his mouth. He downed the beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Chainsaw circled the room, agitated by Ronan's agitation. “Fuck it. Look man, I’m in fucking therapy. I have…” He took a shaking breath. “I've got goddamn motherfucking PTSD and bullshit trauma. Anyway, that includes…mindfuckery like flashbacks and nightmares.” He took a shuddering breath. “I’m struggling, man. I need help. Jesus shit Mary fuck. That's its. That's the truth.”

Gansey didn't say anything for a second. He watched Ronan pace, watched him pause and rip the label off his beer, and watched him pet Chainsaw when she landed on his forearm. The examination doused the anger burning Ronan up. Finally, Gansey took his glasses off, stood up and crossing the room like a king, he embraced Ronan in a tight hug. 

“Gansey,” Ronan said into his neck. “Gansey, man.” 

Gansey just hugged him tighter. 

Something in Ronan broke. Like a tightrope he'd been walking for too long snapped and he was falling into the unknown. He clung to Gansey, desperately trying not cry, and then, he let go. Great gulping sobs ripped themselves from his chest. Gansey held him up and allowed it to flow from Ronan. As always, he was an unbreakable barrier between Ronan and the world. He was the strength keeping Ronan standing. The brain keeping Ronan breathing. Gansey was his brother and his family and the reason he was still alive. 

He'd saved Ronan's life as much as any soldier. 

After longer than he would ever admit, Ronan stopped crying and let him go. “Thanks, man.” He wiped his face clean and lay on Gansey’s bed. “ Now stop fucking dossing and get back to work.”

Gansey's wiped his own face discreetly and laughed weakly. “Sure, sure. What are you gonna do?”

Ronan managed to shrugged despite lying down. “Lie here. Keep you fucking company, ya nerd.” 

“Ronan?”

“Hummmmm,” Ronan answered, suddenly exhausted. 

“I'm proud of you.” 

“Thanks,” Ronan managed before sleep stole him. 

He woke warm and comfortable. He was on his side, face pushed into something rough, smelling of gasoline. He shifted and threw his arm over whatever it was. Someone huffed out a breath. Awareness niggled at his mind but he was _so_ comfortable. He pushed cousiousness back for a little while longer and allowed himself to fall back into darkness. 

“If that's not the cutest thing I've ever seen.” Blue's voice broke through Ronan's dreams of warm grass, and sunlight streaming through leaves, and a hot body, and a laugh he'd want to hear every day forever. 

He groaned into whatever he was lying on and dug deeper. He did not want to wake up. He was so comfortable and so relaxed.

“It’s my fault. I sat beside him to read Gansey's work and he rolled over.”

The voice prickled across his skin followed by unwelcome realisation. _Motherfucker_. Ronan was suddenly very awake and very aware that the thing he was lying against was a jean clad leg. His whole body was pressed into it, arm thrown over the thighs and faced pressed into the warm heat there. He rolled onto his back and leaned up on his elbows. “Fucking Jesus, Parrish.” 

Blue laughed. 

The heat from his face could have powered the BMW. He was half asleep and disoriented and he was pretty sure he'd been _cuddling_ Adam. “Shit man," he managed, desperately wishing he was as invisible as Noah. "Sorry.” 

Adam was concentrating on the pages in front of him, red pen in his mouth. The tips of his ears were pink. “Don't worry about it,” he answered around the pen. “You obviously needed the sleep.”

Ronan fell back onto the mattress and covered his face with a pillow. Someone tapped his foot. “Blue and I are getting take out, you want some?”

He lifted the pillow. “What are you getting?” The question was directed at Adam but he said it to the room. 

Gansey answered, “We're getting Nino's. Adam isn't hungry.”

The look on Adam's face told a different story. 

“Get me a large pizza and beer.” He throat was dry and rasping. He coughed. “Adam can have some of mine. Make up for the drool stains.” 

Gansey laughed. “Seems fair.” 

Adam ignored them all. Just kept marking up the pages. Ronan dropped the pillow back onto his face, listening as the others left and then silence fell. The only sound was the occasional scratch of pen on paper. 

Eventually he managed to form a sentence. “Apparently I'm a fucking loser in my sleep.”

“You're always a loser, Lynch.”

Ronan laughed and felt Chainsaw land on his stomach. The bird started tearing up the ripped material of his top. 

Don't worry about it,” Adam said after a few minutes silence. “I'd have woken you if you were annoying me.”

Ronan didn't apologise again. He'd learnt in the two months he knew Adam Parrish that he meant what he said. Sure, Ronan had seen him lie but there was a tone of voice Adam used; one that meant he was done with a conversation. A tone that was a full stop. 

Ronan loved it. It made it so much easier when someone just cut through the bullshit. He took the pillow off his face and put it under his head. 

He was about to change the subject when Adam said, “I don't need your pity.” 

It was said so casually Ronan knew if he hadn't been obsessively studying Adam he wouldn't have recognised the quiet fire burning beneath the words.

Ronan didn't answer. Just petted Chainsaw's head. Finally he replied, “If anyone was gonna be pitied in this friendship, it'd be me.”

The pen paused the scratching and then started again. “Why?”

“Oh come on, man.” Ronan kept petting Chainsaw but he was staring at the ceiling. “Look at you. Two fucking degrees. Manager at twenty five. Got out of the fucking trailer park you don't talk about. Survived all those shitty people.” He hated this but it was something he and Calla were working on. Expressing gratitude and emotion and showing people that he cared. “Fuck. Gansey is like in love with you. Blue would kill for you.” Chainsaw hopped off Ronan and onto Adam's knee. “Even this traitor loves you and she only just about likes me.”

“That's all well and good, Ronan. You've said some nice things there-” Adam had stopped writing and was petting the raven gently like he was afraid the bird would fly away. “-but why are you the one that would be pitied?”

“Really? You haven't noticed that I'm a goddamn mess?” Ronan ran a shaking hand down his face. “I look at you and you've just got it, you know? And I'm the fucking loser barely holding it together.” 

Adam didn't respond. He went back to the papers resting against his knees. Chainsaw ate the corner of one. After a few minutes though, he reached out and laced his fingers through the hand resting on Ronan's chest. He didn't say anything. Neither did Ronan. 

They only let go when they heard Blue and Gansey arriving back. Ronan glanced up at him just before the door opened and realised he was in big fucking trouble.


	26. Worth is not something you can buy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise in advance for this chapter because; 
> 
> A: It ends on a cliffhanger  
> 2\. It's a MEAN cliffhanger  
> iii. I'm going away for a week and will not be updating until next Sunday. 
> 
> But on the plus side, it's the longest chapter I've written so yayayayay. 
> 
> Do let me know what you think pleaaassseee because I'm kinda excited about this one and would love to hear your opinions <3

Adam _hated_ that the best part of his week was when Ronan fell asleep on him. Not that he minded; it just felt sort of pathetic that he'd spent the whole week thinking about it. He somehow doubted Ronan passed his time the same way. Plus it was obviously not on purpose. Ronan was mortified when he woke up, and yet Adam couldn't stop remembering the heat of Ronan's body pressed against his, or how nice it was when he threw his arm over him, or how he buried his face into Adam's leg. Ronan’s sleep addled face when he realised what had happened and the brush of red across it's sharp lines was burned into Adam's memories. 

When Adam had held his hand, it'd been pure instinct. Ronan's face had fallen and softened, leaving him looking younger and way too vulnerable. Adam couldn't stand it. When he wrapped warm fingers around his, he hoped Ronan wouldn't reject him or feel like he was overstepping or that it meant _something more_. Even though Adam suddenly and desperately wanted something more. He pushed the feelings down. Ronan was healing. Adam could see the results of it every day. He looked easier in his skin. Like he was slowly dumping all the horrors he housed in his head. There was no way Adam was going to risk Ronan's recovery by selfishly ploughing into his world and attempting to get into his heart. 

Adam wasn't even sure if Ronan should take the risk. Not for him. Ronan deserved so much and Adam was just so _little_. Listening to Ronan describe him had made Adam's heart ache. He'd never had someone sum him up so succinctly and so kindly before. If that was how Ronan saw him, Adam definitely didn't deserve him. He'd never live up to that image. 

Adam groaned into his pillow. It was three am and he had to stop thinking of Ronan. Groaning again, he threw his arm over his head and let it block out the streetlights. He'd had a long week at work; all his extra work to promote the business had paid off and they'd gotten three new renovation jobs in on Monday. Except he was short staffed, because usually summer was quiet, so way too many people were on holiday. He'd stayed late every night along with the remains of his staff. By the time today arrived everyone was grouchy and snappy so he'd taken them out for Friday night pizza and beers. Boss’s treat. It'd cost him a hundred and fifty bucks. He was still trying to figure out if it'd been worth it. The crew were all smiles and cheers when he left at half eleven but it also meant he had fifty dollars until payday. Which was three weeks away. 

He was so screwed. 

Suddenly, thinking of Ronan seemed like a better idea than worrying about money. Because he knew he'd have to go into his savings to survive the month. The bear trap around his foot tightened. Panic clenched at his heart. His breath misted across his arm and warmed his already too hot skin. He kicked his sheet off and then kept kicking. It was his day off tomorrow and all he had planned was a visit to the care home. 

He hadn't visited his mom in over a week and he was dreading it. Last time she'd been so high on painkillers, she'd first mistaken him for her father and then forgotten who he was. She'd had a nurse make him leave. There was something deeply horrifying having a nurse apologise as his mother screamed abuse down the hallway. He'd managed not to cry but the trembling hadn't stopped until late into the night. 

Dawn was threading light across the horizon when his eyes finally got heavy and closed. It was only a few hours later when the light broke through his dreams and dragged him back to reality. He lay there for another hour, but no matter how long he tried, sleep had deserted him. He rolled over, and grabbing his phone, called Blue.

She answered on his second attempt. “Adam, hi.” She sounded breathless and giddy. Someone laughed in the background. “What's up?”

“You about today? Haven't seen you in a while.” 

It took her a second to reply. “No, get off. Sorry. Sorry Adam. I'm actually not. Me and Gansey are getting to know each other better. We're gaining some carnal knowledge.” 

“Jesus Christ Blue. I did not need that image.”

She laughed. “Yeah well, you asked. Come into Nino's during the week. We'll have dinner together.” 

Gansey said something in the background. 

Blue huffed out a laugh. “Gansey told me apologise to you for my inappropriate language and oversharing.”

Adam banged his head on his pillow. “Don't worry about it. I'll see you during the week.”

He hung up, suddenly tearful. He'd gotten used to having people around, and after the crappy week, he wanted the company today. He couldn't face going to see his mam without some form of decompression first. Irritated, hot and sweaty, he showered and left his house, driving anywhere.

He ended up at The Barns. 

_Of course he did_. 

The BMW was outside but Ronan didn't answer the door. Adam glanced around the fields, feeling suddenly stupid for coming out here. He considered leaving even while his eyes roamed the fields for any sign of the other man. He wanted to go. He wanted to stay. Staring out at the green, he saw the flash of black that could only be Chainsaw. 

Taking a deep breath to steady the growing nerves, he climbed a fence and made his way across the fields. Ronan was lying in the grass, top off and stuffed beneath his head. He was in shorts and his feet were bare. Chainsaw circled above. Large headphones were blaring some incomprehensible noise. Adam swallowed down his feelings and dropped down beside him. 

Ronan didn't notice. His eyes were closed and he was tapping his fingers on his ribs. Adam could finally see the words of his other tattoo. 

_Theirs not to make reply,_  
_Theirs not to reason why,_  
_Theirs but to do and die_ : 

He recognised the words from a poem he'd studied in high school. He'd always liked it; the six hundred marching to their deaths without fear. He'd sometimes thought about it when he marched back to his trailer at night. It was a way of gritting his back and getting himself through the door, right into the valley of death. 

“Done staring, Parrish?” Ronan asked, taking off his headphones. The music still blared out from around his neck. 

Adam jolted. “Fuck, Ronan. You could told me you knew I was here.” 

Ronan shrugged. “You seemed to be enjoying the view.” 

The smirk he threw at Adam slid across him like ice on too hot skin. So pleasant and so not allowed. He forced the shiver away and made a face. “You're a dickhead.”

“Yeah, I am.” Ronan closed his eyes again.

When he didn't speak again, Adam asked, “Why are you lying in the middle of a field?” 

“My therapist says nature is good for me.”

“Your therapist?”

“Joke, Parrish. I just like it out here. It's quiet.” Ronan glanced over at him with a smirk. “Well, it was quiet.”

“I can go if you want?” He went to stand but Ronan caught his arm.

“Nah, stay. Already been out here for an hour.” He sat up and threw his headphones in the grass. Much to Adam's disappointment, he put his top back on. “What ya doing here, man?”

Adam shrugged. “Blue and Gansey are together. Getting to know each other. Carnally.”

Ronan shuddered. “Jesus Mary, Parrish. Fuck off with that much information.”

“If I had to hear it so do you,” Adam said through laughter. 

Ronan pushed him over. “You've ruined my life. I hope you know that.” 

Adam laughed some more into the grass tickling his face. “Dramatic much?” 

The grin Ronan shot him held all kinds of secrets. 

Adam wanted to know them all. He pushed himself back up and wrapped his arms around his knees. “What does your tattoo mean? The one on your ribs?”

Ronan froze and the smile fell from his lips. 

“Sorry,” Adam said panicking. “I didn't mean to overstep or anything. I just… I know the poem. I used to… Anyway, it doesn't matter. Sorry.”

“You know you're horribly fucking cute when your nervous, right? It's fucking stupid.” Ronan flopped back down onto the grass and closed his eyes. “Everyone in my regiment had it. Soldiers, ya know? We take orders. We don't question them.” 

Feeling suddenly brave, Adam asked, “Did you like being a soldier?”

It took Ronan a very long time to answer. He took in a shuddering breath and stroked Chainsaw’s head when she landed on his stomach. He opened his mouth and closed it at least three times. “When I was younger, I was a fuck up. No other way to put it. My parents died within six months of each other and it just went downhill from there. You went to Aglionby, right?”

Adam nodded. 

“So, you've probably heard the fucking stories then?”

Adam shrugged. “I know a few. Not many. I was always too busy studying. Know about fourth of July, and you hung out with Kavinsky, but that was it really.” 

Ronan winched at the mention of Independence Day. “My fucking crowning achievement,” he barked out with bitter soaked words. “Declan was livid. Like I'd never seen him quiet so red.” 

Adam huffed out a laugh. 

Ronan grinned. “Gansey was, Jesus.” The smile fell from his lips. “Anyway they sent me to military school and it was, you know what, it was a fucking relief. It was just so structured but in a way that fucking mattered. Like they were training us for something bigger than ourselves and fucking Jesus I needed something bigger than myself. The army was just the next logical step.” Ronan sat up, leaning on his knees and stared at Adam. “I never wanted to be strangled by a fucking tie in a godforsaken office in the middle of silver and chrome and concrete. I cannot fucking think of anything worse.”

Adam winched. He couldn't think of anything better. Anything that would prove his success more. “So what now?”

Ronan pointed across the fields. “This. If they won't let me back out there, then I'm gonna make this place home again. Make it a farm again. Make it work.” 

Adam decided to push his luck one last time. “Do you miss it?”

“I miss…” Ronan took a wet breath. “Seriously though, what the fuck are you doing here?” 

After everything Ronan had just given him, Adam decided he could maybe give something back. “I was wondering, and look, if it's too much, or you've plans for the day, or whatever, it fine like, but…” 

“Spit it out, Parrish.”

“Could you come visit my mom with me? I just can't go alone again.”

Ronan leaned forward and examined him. “Where is she?”

“In the care home at the edge of town,” he muttered. “She’s sick. Cancer. Really sick. She doesn't recognise me most of the time.” He shrugged. “I just can't face it alone today.”

Ronan was examining him, questions written across his lips. He only asked one, “Does Gansey know?”

Adam shook his head. 

“Ok then.” Ronan tapped his fist to Adam's fingers. “I've got your six.” Ronan laughed at Adam's quirked head. “I've got your back, man.” 

It took them another three hours to actually go, and even then, it was only because they were going to miss the second lot of visiting hours. The care home was as depressing as ever. The hallways were lit by dim lights to hide the dirty beige walls. Pictures of beaches and forests and blue, blue skies hung along them. Adam always thought they made it worse. No one here was seeing a beach again. There was one small window at the end of the long corridor but it was covered in yellowing lace. No natural light managed to peak it's way in. The nurse at reception greeted him with a smile and waved them through; they always recognised the regulars. 

Ronan’s footsteps were heavy behind him. Adam wished he could take his hand. Tensing his shoulders, he turned and smiled, “She mightn't recognise me. She might think I'm my dad. She might throw us out.” He took a wet breath. It was somehow worse having to explain it to another person. “It's not great and we won't stay long.”

“We'll stay as long as you want, man.”

Adam nodded and turned the handle. The room was shadowed in dull light and smelled heavily of disinfectant and musky air. The windows didn't open. He swallowed and stepped in, examining his mam as he did. She was sleeping, lines smoothed out into something almost peaceful. The knot in her eyebrows was gone and her mouth looked peaceful. Like cruel words had no place there. 

Adam almost scoffed. 

Ronan leaned against the sideboard, arms folded and shoulders harsh lines. Adam sat on the chair and watched her, breath shallow and ragged. He felt every inhale like a pin through his heart. With Ronan here, it was too easy to feel everything he'd never had. Silent tears eased there way down he face and he angrily wiped them away. He wouldn't cry by her bedside. He wasn't that person. 

She blinked awake after fifteen minutes. “Adam, is that you?” 

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. 

“You brought death?” She whispered, her voice raspy and weak. 

Adam started and glanced around, seeing only Ronan. “What?” 

She stared over his shoulder, eyes wide and bulging, and hunched up her body to make herself smaller. 

An easy breathless laugh fell from him. “No, mam. This is Ronan. He's my friend.” 

She glanced between the two. “I don't like him. He's... cruel.” 

Ronan laughed harshly, but leaned over the chair and said gently to Adam, “I can wait outside of you like? I don't want to upset her.”

Adam shook his head. “Mom, Ronan is a soldier like grandad was.” 

She squinted, suspiciously. “Really?”

Adam picked up some water off her bedside table and put the straw in her mouth. “Have some water.”

She sipped like a spoilt child; contrary and unwilling. “I still don't like him.” 

He heard Ronan huff out a breath. He sounded amused. 

Adam grinned. “It's all right mom, I like him enough for the both of us.” 

After, Ronan drove him back to The Barns to pick up his car. Neither of them talked. Adam picked at a loose thread on the hem of his t-shirt. It was only when they'd arrived and were sitting on the steps at the front of the house that Adam broke the silence. 

“Thanks for coming today.” 

Ronan smirked. “Well, Death has to do his rounds.” 

“I can't believe she thought that.” 

“It's the best fucking compliment I've ever received.” 

Adam’s laugh echoed over the reaching fields. “I love it out here, man.” The air was warm and fragrant. Cicadas calls rang out, echoing off the darkening sky. A gentle breeze chased just visible fireflies across the horizon. “I never want to leave.”

“You're welcome anytime.” Ronan’s voice sounded thick and complicated forcing Adam to look at him. Ronan was already staring back. “Seriously. Come and stay whenever.” 

Adam felt like he was falling into Ronan's blue eyes. They were like cool pools he could escape into on a summer's day. Drowning in their depths didn't seem like the worst way to go. The air between them was thick with unspoken want. Adam licked his lips. Ronan followed the movement. Slowly, like he was giving Adam the chance to move away, Ronan leaned in and kissed him. 

Kissing Ronan Lynch was like every Christmas morning he'd never had. It was every hug he desperately wanted as a child. It was cool rain when he was cycling home. It was electricity across his skin and a thrumming heartbeat that felt unfamiliar. It was nothing like any other kiss he'd ever had. He'd never felt quite so _wanted_.

Adam gasped back, wrenching himself free of the soft hands Ronan had laid on his biceps, and jerked himself up, stumbling away. 

“Shit, man. I'm so fucking sorry,” Ronan pleaded. “I thought… Dammit, I dunno what I thought. Jesus Mary. Fuck.” He didn't move towards Adam who was leaning on the BMW, trying to gasp in heavy air, but instead, turned his back to him, “FUCK.” Ronan kicked the edge of the stairs. 

Adam went to take a step forward and stopped himself. If he touched Ronan again, he'd kiss him and he couldn't. He couldn't be that _wanted_ by someone else. Because if he lost it, that'd be the end of him. He just knew it. “Ronan, stop.” 

The kicking stopped but Ronan didn't look at him. The plains of his back heaved up and down as he stole in long breathes. Tension ate up the muscles in his arms and across his shoulders. “I'm so sorry, Adam.”

It was so rare for Ronan to use his name, Adam started. It fell from Ronan's lips as softly as a pray. Adam fisted his hands against the want raging through him. He couldn't have Ronan. He didn't deserve him. “I better go.” 

Ronan nodded, back still to him. 

Getting in the car and driving away was the hardest thing Adam thought he'd ever done. The trembling in his hands didn't stop until late into a sleepless night.


	27. Crash into my heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm late with this update! Holiday brain is a thing apparently! Also this is kinda short. I'll try make the next one longer! 
> 
> There is angst and Kavinsky and angst. Enjoy.
> 
> Thank you as always for comments and kudos and love. You're all fabulous.

Ronan hadn't slept and Calla was looking at him like she knew he hadn't slept. “Let's talk about your self-destructive tendencies,” she suggested. 

He snorted. “What do you wanna know?” 

She just stared, waiting. They were in the kitchen, sitting under a monstrosity of a light fixture. The windows, covered in leaves, blocked out the sun and gave the room an eerie green glow. Someone slammed a door upstairs and the glasses in the cabinet shook. 

“Drinking? Racing? Impulsive decisions?” The sharp shape of Ronan's mouth would have scared lesser people. “Fucking my life up over and over again just because I damn well can?”

Calla just continued to stare. 

“Jesus Mary, Calla. What the fuck do ya want me to say?” He chewed on his bracelets and spoke around them, “Every time I try to make the right fucking decision, do the right thing, I fuck it up. Like Adam…” He trailed off. 

“Adam?” She asked, eyebrow quirked. 

Ronan chewed his bracelets. He didn't answer. It'd been two weeks since he'd fucked up that friendship. They hadn't spoken. They hadn't hung out. Ronan still burned with shame every time he thought about it. So he didn't think about it. 

Calla examined him. “Tell me about your need to make impulsive decisions. Did you make them in the army?”

Ronan shook his head. “Hell no. Follow orders or people get killed.” 

“What was your regiment like?” 

“Fucking hell, Calla. Just like throw that the fuck out there why don't you?” 

She smiled. “Altough talking through your childhood trauma is important, it's not currently the top of our list." Ignoring his scowl, she continued, "Think of yourself like a trauma patient. First, we deal with the life threatening injuries. Then we look at the other issues. Your most recent trauma is your life threatening injury, and although your childhood is important to your formation and your recklessness, it is not currently causing you to bleed out." She tapped purple nails against a scratched up table. "More importantly, your files arrived in from the VA.” 

“My files? As in my army files?” Ronan’s heart was suddenly beating too fast. It echoed in his ears and made breathing difficult. Like he was sucking air through perforated plastic. “I don't wanna talk about that,” he whispered. 

He glanced over at the corner. Noah was holding his fingers to his throat, but blood was still spurting between them in waves. Instead of breathing, he was making a wet gasping sound that hurt to listen to. Ronan blinked tears from his eyes. 

Calla was watching him. “We're going to have to face it eventually Ronan. It's the only way to heal. Can you at least tell me what you remember from that last day?” 

Ronan was up and through the door before she could react. He was already at the BMW when he felt her warm hand on his wrist. 

“Ronan, you can't run from this.” 

Something in him broke; a dam of pain and sadness and grief and hopelessness filling up his chest and choking him. He leaned his head against the hot metal of his car and dragged in a gasping breath. Quiet tears wet his cheeks. Calla rubbed his back in gentle circles. 

“You're all right, Ronan. It's okay.”

“It's fucking not, Calla. Nothing is fucking okay.” 

“No, you're right. It's really not.” 

She didn't push him to answer again and she let him go early. When he got home, he did something he hadn't done in over a year. He strapped up his hands and marched over to his dad's favourite barns; he'd hung up a boxing bag years ago, had used it to train all the Lynch brothers to fight. Just being in there brought back memories of sweat dripping down his back while his dad shouted orders at him. He could practically hear the echoes of his childhood. 

The first punch shuddered up his arm and straight through his injured shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he kept going until he fell into a familiar rhythm. 

Ronan was fucking pissed. 

Calla had explained that the form he'd signed at the start of his counselling was consent for them to request his military records. Ronan hadn't even fucking _read_ the damn forms. He regretted that now. 

Each punch tore up his knuckles a little bit more. He hadn't wrapped them properly in his need for violence. Somewhere he recognised the buzz of his phone but he ignored it. It was no one he wanted to talk to. Avoiding his friends had been surprisingly easy. Gansey was all wrapped up with Blue, and once Ronan sent a daily check-in message, he could easily convince him he was fine. 

He hit and hit and hit until his shoulder screamed and his knuckles bled and his breathing was ragged. He wasn't crying. He wasn't crying. He wasn't crying. It was just sweat pouring from his eyes. After a long hour of pouring the liquid rage from beneath his skin, he finally collapsed onto the ground. Breathing heavy, he let the sobs break free. 

It was only when he was stumbling back over the fields, legs heavy and arms aching, that he checked his phone. Three unread messages. One from Declan. One from Adam. One from Kavinsky. He swiped away Declan's and Adam's messages and opened Kavinsky's. 

Calla's words echoed across the fields, _Let's talk about your self-destructive tendencies_.

_Tonight?_

Ronan grunted and a vicious grin spread across his face. _What time?_

_Midnight. Usual place._

Ronan didn't bother replying again. He'd already decided what he was going to do. 

The strip of road was pitch black as Ronan drove down it. The abandoned lot was dark except for the mitsubishi shining in the thin moonlight. The rusted skeleton of the old factory looked mournful without its usual occupants. Trash cans burnt black darkened the horizon. There were no shadows. Just darkness. Ronan thought it finally looked like Hell. There was no heaven here anymore. Just demons and empty wishes. Booming bass cut the air. 

Ronan paused at the entrance, watching. 

Kavinsky leaned against his car, waiting. 

Screaming into the lot, he circled the space letting dust and stones raise into the air. The donuts he drew were messy and loud. He loved it. When he pulled up beside Kavinsky, the other man clapped. 

“Well, well, well,” Kavinsky sneered. “That was quite a show.” 

“Fuck you,” Ronan replied, climbing from the car. 

Kavinsky shrugged. “Whatever you want, man. Whatever you want.” 

He didn't bother responding, just chewed his bracelets and stared at the empty lot. He felt rather than heard Kavinsky move closer. 

“So you didn't bring Poorboy with you then? I thought he was your new charity case or toy or fuck.”

Ronan tried not to show how much Kavinsky's words caused him to bristle. He slouched back on the cold metal of his car and landed a bored gaze on Kavinsky's pale skin. “You sound jealous, K.” 

Kavinsky stepped forward again until he was only a foot away. His eyes slid over Ronan's body, a little wishful and a lot hateful. It felt like being dipped in slime, clinging and uncomfortable. Some part of Ronan loved it. Most of him hated it. 

“I could have you anytime I wanted.” Kavinsky licked his lips. “I'm just waiting for the right time.”

“Never gonna happen, fuckface.” 

Kavinsky laughed. “Sure, man. Sure.” 

Ronan straightened out, forcing Kavinsky back. “Are we racing or flirting?” He sneered, angry and confused and trying so hard not to fall back into the raging self-hatred waiting like oil beneath his skin. 

“I always thought the racing was flirting,” Kavinsky replied, a hollow grin echoing across his empty features. “So, let's go race.” He said _race_ like he meant to say _flirt_.

Rolling his eyes, Ronan got back into the car and pulled up to the entrance of the lot. Clean, dark roads stretched ahead of him; a dark lake waiting for him to drown his pain. The mitsubishi roared up beside him and K gave him the finger. Ronan snorted and revved his engine. 

There was no traffic lights or a person to wave them down. They both waited, cars screaming and tires smoking, until Kavinsky finally screamed _NOW_ and they flew from the lot. Ronan as always was quicker, flying across the tarmac like Chainsaw through the air. He whooped out a rough sound of freedom, watching the lights of the mitsubishi in the rearview mirror. When he reached the end of the road, he slowed, hoping, maybe, K wanted to go again. 

Too late, he noticed Kavinsky wasn't slowing, was driving straight at him. It was only when he hit him, and the BMW swerved, Ronan believed it was happening. He slammed into a lamppost at a force that shuddered the brain in his skull and pulled his seatbelt tight against his neck. The last thing he thought before he blacked out was, _I hope Gansey doesn't find out_.


	28. Action makes the man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, your comments were hilarious! I'm so sorry the last chapter was so dramatic! But you made me giggle! 
> 
> Anyway. ANGST. ANGST. MORE ANGST.
> 
> TW; canon level mention of abuse

When Adam's alarm went off it didn't wake him. He'd already been up for hours, staring at the ceiling. The night had passed too slowly as he reran the highlights of his life over and over. Nothing like picking at a scab to make it bleed. Nothing like opening a wound to make it hurt.

Adam had a lot of ways to damage himself.

There were sixteen messages and ten missed calls on his silent phone when he reached for it. His heart plummeted; it had to be his mom. He suddenly realised he wasn't ready to leave Henrietta; didn't want to leave behind his friends for an empty city and a crappy internship. 

Pushing that _insane_ thought aside, he opened the messages. They were all from Gansey. So not his mom then. 

_Adam, you awake?_  
_There's been an accident._  
_It's Ronan. I dunno what's going on._  
_I'm on my way to the hospital. I'll let you know what's happening. You're probably asleep._  
_He crashed the BMW. Shit. He still unconscious._  
_I can't lose him, Adam._  
_Blue is here. She said you sleep with your phone on silent._  
_I can't believe you're gonna wake up to this._  
_Okay. We're in the room. He's out of danger._  
_Call me._  
_Or come visit._  
_I know you're in work._  
_Do you think you could get it off?_  
_I mean, it's Ronan._  
_Blue's staying with me and I've called his brothers._  
_Call me._

He scanned the messages with sudden tearful eyes. There was a vice around his lungs, tightening. His hands were trembling. He placed his phone gently on the bucket masquerading as a bedside table and took very careful, very controlled breaths. Like Persephone taught him. He could feel the panic rising like an incoming tide. 

_Five things you can see._ “Bed, table, window, chair, desk,” Adam gasped out, too breathless considering he was sitting.  
_Four things you can touch._ He wrapped one hand in his sheet, anchoring himself to the ground. He reached out with the other touching the cold plastic of the upturned bin, felt the rough wood beneath his feet, rubbed the soft skin of his earlobe and ran his fingers down the white, uneven wall.  
_Three things you can hear._ Gasping breaths. A bird singing. A conversation below his open window.  
_Two things you can smell_ Sweat. Unwashed sheets.  
_One thing you can taste._ Blood. 

He'd bitten his tongue. Shit. He shook the dizziness from his head. After he'd grounded himself, he concentrated on his body, relaxing each muscle group. Another trick from Persephone. It took ten minutes and he kept his breathing steady throughout. The panic was fading. He couldn't always push it back but it was getting easier each time. He rarely had panic attacks anymore but it was good to know what he'd learnt was instinct. 

After a few more minutes, Adam called Jessie. He told him what had happened and explained he'd be out for a few days. His hands were still shaking. He text Boyd, letting him know as well. Even when he was panicking Adam was the _most_ responsible. He threw on whatever was closest and grabbed his car keys. The trembling wouldn't stop. 

He was halfway to the hospital when he realised Ronan wouldn't want him there. They hadn't spoken in two weeks. Ronan had ignored his message yesterday. He didn't want to see him. Adam had rejected him in the worst possible way. He pulled into the hard shoulder and slammed his hands on the steering wheel. "Shit."

Heart pounding, he called Gansey. The phone rang out and he gratefully put it back on silent. The road in front of him shimmered black in the rising heat of the day. Brown grass and sunrise painted the day in an uncomfortable sepia tone. Sometimes, he hated how beautiful Henrietta was. Especially when it got bad. Like after his dad had taken his anger out on his face and he watched the sunset paint the pale blue sky in a canopy of colours; a master's canvas. The yellow changing to pink and red, highlighting the burnt grass and opening up the mountains to compliments he loathe to give. Dragging his mind away from the steps of the trailer, he watched as birds swooped across the sky.

_Chainsaw_. 

No one would be even thinking of her. 

Adam always needed a means to be productive. Emotions were not his strong point. He tried when people were upset, sat and listened, hugged them and said soothing words, but more often than not, he seemed to mess it up. He'd gotten better, Blue had seen to that, but he was still never sure if he was doing it right. Action, though. Adam was good at action. Paying for his mom's care. Holding Ronan's hand. Hiking with Gansey. Raising profits in the garage. Hugging Blue.

 _Looking after Chainsaw_.

This was his way of helping. 

The Barns was empty when he got there. Of course it was. Everyone else was at hospital. He pushed away the clogging guilt. Adam had never realised quite how interlinked Ronan and his home were. Without him, the place felt unwelcoming, almost cruel; it was Ronan before his smile. He patted the door as he walked in, like the house needed comforting, and hoped Ronan would be back soon. He could hear Chainsaw cawing. She was locked in a large cage in the sitting room and she was pissed. The overturned water and shedded feathers were proof of that. 

Checking all the windows and doors were closed, he let her out. He didn't know if it was a good idea, but he remembered Ronan talking about how much _she fucking hates that fucking cage_ , so he could only hope he'd managed to get her back into it. It took an hour for her to calm down and another hour to trust him enough to let him pet her. Two hours after that, he managed to coax her back into the cage, ignoring her watchful, distrustful eyes. 

He'd left his phone in the car _by accident_ and so he wasn't surprised by the many, many messages and missed calls on it. Chainsaw was loaded in the back seat, cawing in annoyance, but he ignored her and called Gansey back. 

“How is he?” He asked as soon as Gansey picked up with a relieved _Adam_.

“Still unconscious. He has a pretty severe concussion so they think it might be a few days.” Gansey’s voice was shaking. “Where are you?”

“I was halfway to the hospital and I realised no one would be thinking of Chainsaw.” The lie was easy because it was mostly truth. “But of course the bird is an exact replica of Ronan. Getting her to trust me is after taking all morning.” 

“Chainsaw, of course. Thank god for you, Adam. Ronan would be devastated if anything happened to her. Are you on your way to the hospital now?” 

Adam swallowed, “I will be. Just got to get Chainsaw some food and get her settled in mine.” This lie was harder because it was mostly untrue. He wasn't planning on coming to the hospital until Ronan specifically invited him. “Do they know what happened?”

“They're saying… Kavinsky was at the crash. He pulled him out. He's saying…” Gansey took a long shuddering breath. “All that matters is he's okay. We can ask him what happened when he wakes up.”

“Kavinsky pulled him out?” 

Gansey’s voice was full of scorn when he replied, “Claiming to be quite the hero. Acting like he matters.” 

“Did he have anything to do with it?” 

“Not according to him, but I haven't seen him driving the mitsubishi either, so who fucking knows?” There was a long pause before Gansey spoke again. “I can't keep doing this. It's too much. I just want... I need him to be okay.” 

Adam wiped a few stray tears from his eyes. “I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can.” Not a lie. He would be. Once Ronan allowed it. “Call me with any updates.”

“Yeah I will. Thanks for thinking of Chainsaw, Adam. You're a good friend.”

Adam cried when they hung up. 

It was two days later when Gansey tracked him down in person. He was lying on his bed, Chainsaw on his stomach shredding another one of his t-shirts, when the banging caused her to caw and circle the room. Dragging his body up, he caught her and opened the door an inch. Gansey slipped in. His face was a gentle shade of _pissed the fuck off_ and his hair stood on end. The clothes he wore were wrinkled and stained. 

“What's going on? Where the hell have you been?" He stalked through the room, stealing all the air and suffocating Adam. "One of your closest friends is lying in a hospital bed and you haven't visited once.” 

Adam let out a shuddering breath as guilt hit him in the gut like one of his father's punches. “Jesus, Gansey. I barely know the man. We only met four months ago.” The anger was a quick, familiar thing he fought to control. He meant none of it. He'd spent the last two days missing Ronan with an fierceness that scared him. He released a squawking Chainsaw. She circled the room a few times before settling on his shoulder. 

Gansey took a step back like he'd been slapped. “What's wrong with you?” 

“We had a fucking fight, alright? Ronan wouldn't want to see me. I'm pretty sure he hates me.” He collapsed onto the bed. Chsinsaw cawed at him angrily and fled to the chair. “Look, I wanna be there, but only if Ronan wants me.”

“You are an idiot, you know that?" Gansey ran his hands through his hair and sat down beside Adam. "What about the rest of your friends? You don't think me and Blue haven't needed you the last few days?” 

“I… I guess not?” Adam tried to figure out being needed by people; being an integral part of someone's life. “Gansey, shit. I just didn't… think.”

Gansey shrugged. “You're part of this thing we're forming. You get that, right? Me, you, Blue... Ronan." He took a steadying breath, tapped his fingers against his knees and rubbed a thumb along his lower lip. "We're important to each other. Just because you and Ronan fought doesn't mean you're suddenly not needed. Have you never been part of a family before, man? It's like that. You matter.” 

Adam forced the tears back before they reached his eyes. He didn't bother correcting Gansey. He'd never had a family before. Not once. He managed a quiet, “Okay, man.” 

“Just come when you're ready.” 

“Okay.” 

Gansey stood to leave. “I better get back."

"He's still unconscious?" 

Gansey nodded, "No change.” 

"Gansey," Adam said and Gansey paused, hand on the handle. Chainsaw landed back onto his shoulder. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Gansey nodded a curt shape, and left. The apartment was so much emptier without him. Adam fell back onto the bed and prayed to a god he didn't believe in that Ronan would wake up soon. 


	29. Dream a little dream of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! My brain is pooped so words are not a thing so enjoy?
> 
> TW; discussion of suicide
> 
> Also, your comments and kudos<3

A beeping noise cut through the thick fog of Ronan's dream and dragged him back to consciousness. Every part of him ached. He blinked against the fluorescent lights and groaned. Something niggled at him, some wrongness that itched under his skin, but even as he tried to remember, it floated away like cigarette smoke on a cold night. 

“Ronan?” 

He tried to reply but his tongue wouldn't comply. All he managed was a groan. 

“Ronan.” The word was said like the speaker meant _finally_.

He blinked a few times, allowing his eyes to adjust to the brightness and turned his head. The movement caused pain to shoot up his neck and down between his shoulder blades. Gansey sat beside the bed. He was leaning forward, hands bracing his knees with white knuckles. Dark bags sat under his eyes. 

Ronan swallowed and managed, “Dick.” 

Gansey laughed and picked up a glass with a straw in it. He placed it to Ronan lips and he gratefully sipped the cool water. It wet his dry mouth, slipping down his throat and hitting his stomach. He almost groaned again with relief. 

“Where?” 

Gansey examined him. “You're in the hospital, man." The pause weighed down the room, making the air thick. "They're saying you tried to kill yourself.”

Ronan swallowed more water, desperately trying to piece together his fractured memories. He didn't _think_ he'd tried to kill himself but the night was a jigsaw he couldn't remember how to reassemble. “How long?”

“You've been out for three days.” 

The conversation was exhausting and confusing. His eyes slipped shut. “Didn’t,” he muttered, almost sure and already asleep. 

A streak of white headed straight for him. A black river waited for him to sail across. A monster traced it's lips like it wanted to eat him up. _Racing or flirting_. Speed. Laughter echoing against an empty sky. Freedom. Oil slicking up his neck and down his throat. Gasping breaths. Gansey finding out. 

“Gansey.” Ronan gasped awake and searched wild eyed for his friend; he was asleep in a chair, feet resting on Ronan's bed and head leaning on his hand. Comforted, Ronan allowed sleep to take him again. 

There was blood everywhere. Everyone was dead. Everywhere. Everyone. Noah lay beside him, neck shredded in a pool of crimson. Bodies lay around him like abandoned hope. Blood was seeping lazily through Ronan's fingers. Pressure on the wound. A chopper circled above. Everyone was dead. Ronan released his shoulder. Let the blood flow. Everyone was dead. _They're saying you tried to kill yourself_. Everyone was dead. _Racing or flirting_. Everyone was dead. Darkness took Ronan's vision as the scream of a chopper set down. Everyone was dead.

He woke like he'd been punched and gasped in a ragged breath. The painkillers had faded and he hurt all over. He wanted his mom. She always knew _just_ what to say to make him feel better.

Declan sat on the chair by his bed, hand halfway between them. Like he'd started to reach out and comfort him. His fingers trembled, and dropping his hand, he closed his fist, never taking his eyes off Ronan. “You okay?”

Ronan viciously wiped the tears from his face. “I didn't try to kill myself.” 

“I never said you did.” 

“Gansey did.”

Declan ran a hand through his hair. “You know you're turning me grey? I'm only a year older than you for fuck sake.”

Ronan flinched away from the pain in his brother's voice. “I'm sorry.” He was so tired and he didn't know what had happened. He just knew he hadn't tried to hurt himself.

“I got a call at two in the goddamn morning, Ronan. Half asleep, and fucking Gansey calls to say you've been in a car crash, and goddamn Kavinsky saved you. Told the police he'd seen you driving erratically and had followed you, pulled you from the BMW. The BMW,” he shouted, voice cracking. “Which is now fucking totalled. Dad's fucking car, man. Dad's car.” 

Ronan opened his mouth to explain _something_ , but Declan waved the words away. 

“I thought I'd lost you that fourth of July, do you know that? Thought you'd killed yourself driving into the damn wall. And then you go to military school, and get your act together, and I'm fucking nineteen making these decisions, hoping it's the right one and I thought, yes, I saved him.” His voice broke. “And then you join the goddamn army.”

Declan was crying and Ronan didn't know what to do. He'd never seen his brother like this. Not even at their parents funeral; he'd just stood there, stoic and unmoving. Ronan went to chew his bands but in their place was a plastic hospital bracelet. When he put it to his lips, it tasted like chemicals.  


“I don't sleep, man. I stay awake at night and worry about you." He shook his head. "You got shot. Shot, Ronan. And you wouldn't let us see you. And now this. I thought…” Declan took a shaky breath. “I thought I was done thinking you were gonna die. Please, Ronan.” The pain in his voice was a knife through Ronan's ribs. “Please don't die on us.” 

Ronan watched as his brother lay his head in his hands and sobbed. Wincing, he sat up and put his hand on Declan's head. “I promise I wasn't trying to kill myself. Yes, I was fucking racing, but I'd had a bad day at therapy, and we haven't gotten to healthy fucking coping techniques yet.” He scrapped his nails through Declan's hair like Aurora used to. "I tried boxing and that didn't work and then Kavinsky text me... I'm sorry, man."

Declan glanced up, eyes red and cheeks swollen. “Therapy?”

Ronan nodded, “I am trying, man. I want to get better.” He offered his brother some water. “Calla, my therapist, says that recovery is like two steps forward and six steps back. I think this was like ten steps back.” 

Declan laughed a wet noise. “More like fifty steps back.” 

Ronan shrugged. “I won't fucking argue with you there.”

“First time for everything.” Declan grinned but it didn't reach his eyes. “Matthew can't keep doing this either, okay? He worships you.”

“Where is he?”

“I sent him and Ais to The Barns. She's eight and half months pregnant, dude. Pre-warning, she might kill you when she sees you.” The grin was a bit more real this time. “Between the hormones and the stress of that call, she's pretty much out for blood.” 

“Seems fucking fair.” 

Declan leaned back, shaking off the vunerability like an unwelcome layer in hot weather. "She loves you like a kid brother, Ronan. Matthew too. You know that, right?”

The words made his stomach ache. So much love he didn't deserve. Ronan coughed and his ribs spasmed. “How bad is it?” He asked, gesturing to himself and changing the subject. 

Declan looked relieved. “Two broken ribs, a concussion, some brushing around your neck, whiplash, and you fucked your shoulder and knee pretty bad.” Declan shrugged. “You'll be fine.” 

Silence fell between them. Ronan had a headache from fighting the drugs; they wanted to put him back to sleep. Dry eyes ached every time he glanced at his brother. Fatigue clawed beneath his skin. 

Declan glanced at him, and away, staring down at his fists. “You promise you didn't try to kill yourself?”

“I promise, Dec.” He smirked but it's stretched his face uncomfortably. "You know I don't lie." He winced as his face stung.

“Stitches,” Declan said, pointing to his cheek. “Busted your face too.”

His brother still looked too unsure so Ronan said, “Declan. I wouldn't leave ya. Not now I'm finally fucking home.” 

Declan nodded, wiping fresh tears from his eyes. “You'll be okay, Ronan. You've got a whole family behind you.”

“Hmmmm,” Ronan agreed, the drugs coming from the drip in his arm hitting his system with renewed force. “I'm gonna sleep now, okay?”

Declan crossed his arms and nodded. “I'll be here when you wake up.” 

Time wasn't working right. When Ronan had woken last time it'd been night, and now it was night again, or still the same night as before, or daytime but dark, because he couldn't seem to get his eyes to open. He didn't know anything except that his head hurt and his shoulder ached and breathing was agony and movement was worse and that this place needed better drugs. The ones he was on made his eyes heavy, and his mouth impossible, but left his ears open to all sorts of conversations. Like the one he was currently listening to or imagining or dreaming. Nothing made sense anymore. 

“He said he didn't try to kill himself." Declan's voice was heavy with the words.

“Said the same to me.” Gansey was certain. “So, that means Kavinsky is lying.”

“Big fucking shock there.” A chair moved and someone squeezed his hand.

Ronan tried to tell them he was awake but fatigue had wrapped his body in black weight that he couldn't shift.

"The sheriff has already ruled it as a single car collision. He's marked it as an accident. Dean checked.” Blue's voice was close enough that he knew it was her holding his hand. “There's no way this asshole tried to kill himself. He loves you two way too much. I think I'm even growing on him.” 

“Where's Adam?” Declan asked suddenly. 

The conversation in the garden danced across Ronan's mind, dreamlike and blurry; _Doesn't matter anyway, he doesn’t feel the same… Well, fuck him then. You're a fucking catch..._ His brother was so protective of him, and right now, he sounded like he wanted to kill Adam. Love seared through Ronan like heat. He wanted to wake up, tell Declan thanks. 

The drugs kept him in the darkness. 

Gansey sighed. “Ronan and he fought. He thinks Ronan wouldn't want him here.” 

“You're joking?” Declan let out a huff of laughter. “Those two are fucking idiots. They deserve each other.” 

“What do you mean?” Gansey asked and Blue laughed. 

“I'll explain when you're older.” Blue's hand left Ronan's and he missed the warmth. “Look, are we actually saying Kavinsky did this on purpose?” 

“Maybe. Maybe by accident and he was too scared to admit it.” Declan's voice was cold; cowardice was far from the Lynch way. “Either way, I'd like to beat his ass.” 

“I'd help,” Blue muttered.

 _maggot_ , the thought was laced in appreciation but it melted from his tongue as the drugs dragged him away from their voices.

He stood in The Barns; glistening fields shining in the rising sun, looking almost like an ocean of green he could swim in if he wanted. Adam stood a foot away, leaning against the BMW. He was staring at Ronan, cool and disinterested. Stepped forward, the car began folding in on itself. After the screech of metal and the smashing glass quieted, all that was left was a tiny box. It was the size of Adam's hand when he picked it up and put it in his pocket. When Adam looked at him again, he spoke in a language Ronan couldn't understand. It was an ancient sounding thing; all vowels and long noises. Ronan shrugged, unsure. Adam paused and stared, spoke again and waited, spoke again gesturing wildly, getting more and more frustrated. 

Finally, he grabbed Ronan’s hand, shaking it, “Latine non loquuntur vobis.” _Don't you speak Latin?_

Ronan swallowed on a dry throat, “Latine loqui non est vestrum.” _You're not speaking Latin._

With a huff, Adam pushed him and stalked away. He disappeared into a sudden fog as Ronan watched, falling back slowly. Like his dream was messing with time. He didn't hit the ground. He kept falling, through the grass and into the black, choking oil of a drowning sea. Cars raced by him, wheels creating ripples which pulled him under thick, clogging darkness. The black slid down his throat until he was _dying dying dying_.

He gasped awake on a too bright room. Adam leaned against the wall at the foot of his bed, watching him. 

Silence stretched between them as Ronan felt the last of the drugs leave his system. He grinned at Adam.

Adam smiled something so bright in return, it cracked Ronan's heart open.

“Welcome back, man,” Adam finally said in a thick Henrietta accent.


	30. Family is not a four letter word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments. Kudos. Subscriptions. Bookmarks. <3 I just think you're all so freaking awesome. 
> 
> Brain is still tired so words are not there. Sorry this chapter is shorter. It's due to the brain brokeness.

It was Declan who convinced him to go to the hospital. 

When the knock came early Friday morning, Adam expected it to be Gansey or Blue. He dragged himself from bed and tapped his fingers gently on Chainsaw's cage. The bird cawed quietly. Not a morning person. Just like Ronan. Adam pretended the ache in his chest was tiredness. 

The knock came again, louder this time. Less patient. More damanding. The door creaked as he pulled it open and his eyes widened as Declan forced his way into his small apartment, glancing around and then slamming down into a chair.

“Sit.”

Adam sat.

Declan examined him with eyes that were too close to Ronan's blue. Adam glanced away, staring at his bare feet. He wished he'd put on socks; the cold was seeping it's way up his legs. 

“You haven't been to the hospital?” 

Adam looked back up and shrugged, “Ronan wouldn't want me there.”

“It’s funny how well you seem to know my little brother considering you only met a few months ago." Declan scratched his unshaven cheek. "One could almost think you had a connection.” 

“We’re friends is all.” Adam ducked his head again. This time to hide his blushing cheeks.

Declan sighed like Adam's answer disappointed him. When Adam glanced back up, Declan was taking in the small apartment; the mattress Adam was sitting on, the crappy furniture, the dirty white walls and the slanted roof. 

Adam examined Declan as he examined Adam's home. He was an exact replica of his brother; same hair and nose, but they was a strength to Declan's that didn't translate to Ronan; he was almost fragile compared to his brother. Despite their similar facial features, Declan's open face inspired trust whereas Ronan's warned _this animal bites_. 

“What are you doing here, Declan?”

He didn't look at Adam when he answered, “You know the day we buried my mom, Ronan and I had a massive fight outside The Barns an hour before church. Punches were thrown. Words were said. Ronan got into dad's car and left.” Declan wiped his bloodshot eyes. “First time he'd driven the car actually. He hadn't gone near it since he found dad with his head bashed in.”

Adam choked and coughed.

“Ronan didn't tell you? Dad was talented at finding artifacts.” Declan said the words carefully. Like he meant to say _stealing_ instead of _finding_. “Those talents did not always foster friendships. One of the non-friends followed him home. Ronan found him.” 

“How did he cope?”

“Smashed a car into the side of Aglionby.” 

Adam looked down at his hands. “I knew about that.”

“Everyone knew about that,” Declan scoffed. “Anyway we ended the business, put the word out, and I thought we were okay…” Declan paused and the quiet made the room smaller. “Mam got sick, and then sicker, and then she was gone. Six months after dad.” He wasn't looking at Adam. He stared at the wall, face carefully blank. “After the fight that morning, I told Matthew Ronan had gone to the church early to check on everything. Here's the thing, Adam, and this is the important bit, so try and keep up.” His voice was pure scorn.

“You can't talk to me like that,” Adam snapped. 

Declan laughed. “My brother is unconscious in hospital. I'll talk to you anyway I damn well please.” He leaned forward in his seat and Adam could suddenly see where Ronan had learned his menace. “I like you, Adam. I really do, but I'm here because Ronan considers you worth something, so just listen up…” He leaned back and his face was calm again; the perfect politician. “I knew if Ronan didn't come to mom's funeral that was _it_ for our family. It was too important for forgiveness. The fight was over nothing; just words and anger and hurt. It wasn't worth not being together when the real shit happened. Do you understand what I'm saying, Adam? Family is more than an argument. Especially when the shit hits the fan.” 

Adam’s hands were shaking. “I don't understand-” he said, forming the words slowly and carefully so he could be sure he said what he meant. “-why people keep saying we're family. I… I thought family was blood and history and…” He stopped frustrated. “I don't understand,” he finished. 

Declan tilted his head and examined him. “You didn't have a good life, did you?”

Adam shrugged. 

“Ever hear the saying blood is thicker than water?”

Adam scoffed. “Of course.”

“Did you know the full saying is the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb?” 

Adam shook his head. 

“The family you choose.” He stood and walked over to the door. “It's stronger than the family you were born with.” 

Adam watched him, and just as Declan twisted the handle, he forced a question off his tongue, “What happened at your mom's funeral?” 

Declan paused and looked back, “Ronan was waiting at the church for us. Front pew. Praying to whatever God he still believed in.” 

It took Adam another three hours to work up the courage to go to the hospital, and even then, it was only because he decided Ronan should know Chainsaw was okay. The drive over was a map of false starts and flooded engines. Adrenaline stopped Adam's body being his own; he kept losing control of simple things like hand movements. 

The hospital was a tall building with too many staring windows and way too many bad memories. The imposing height reminded Adam of rich men in suits; all confidence and knowledge and too much privilege. Adam felt small and poor standing outside it. Just like he did around those men. Taking a breath and shrugging away the doubts, he walked through the automatic doors. The disinfectant smelt different than in the nursing home; so potent it almost stung his nostrils. Fluorescent lights turned his sun kissed skin translucent. The air was cold and artificial. There was no sun, no fields, no freedom.

When Ronan woke up, he was gonna hate it.

He already knew the floor and room courtesy of Gansey but he hesitated at the gift shop. He just needed a few more minutes to calm the beat of his pulse. He picked up a magazine and put it down. Some toffees. A book on cars. A pack of toiletries. All went back on their shelves. He finally settled on a tiny black bird teddy. It was stupid and it was cute and he bought it before he could talk himself out of it. Ronan would probably like it. Maybe. 

The ride up in the empty elevator was nauseating. What if Ronan threw him out? What if he laughed in his face? Cussed him out? Adam squeezed the teddy like a stress ball and reminded himself Ronan had never been intentionally cruel to him. In fact, he'd gone out of his way to be kind to Adam. 

The room was empty. Just Ronan, unconscious in the oversized bed. He looked smaller. There was dark bruises across his right cheek. White stitches held a jagged looking cut closed. He had two black eyes and his buzzed hair looked fuzzy and soft. The sheet had come off his left side. There was white bandages around his shoulder, ribs and knees. He was only in black boxers. 

Blushing, Adam pulled the thin blanket over him and leaned against the wall. He tucked the teddy in his back pocket. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, feeling like a creep, but he didn't leave. No one came in to check on Ronan. Adam didn't want him to be alone. 

The movement started slow. Like Ronan was pulling himself up through quicksand. His fingers twitched. His arms moved. One foot shifted. His head turned from one side of the pillow to the other. 

Adam watched, biting his lip and praying to whatever God Ronan believed in that he'd wake up soon. Ronan was agitated now, shifting violently from side to side. Adam could see his eyes fluttering under his eyelids. He wanted to step forward and hold Ronan's hand. He stayed where he was.

Ronan finally gasped awake, eyes shooting around the room until they found Adam. Silence stretched between them. Ronan was closing his eyes and blinking them open, like he was forcing himself to stay awake. His breathing was deep and slow, struggling free from the hold sleep had on him. Each time his eyes opened again, they found Adam's.

It felt like an eternity before Ronan grinned at him; a careful, delighted shape. Something so easy and happy, it made Adam's heart ache for more. 

Adam smiled. “Welcome back, man.” He barely cared about the thick Henrietta accent coating his words.

Ronan was back.


	31. day and night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit late with this chapter, apologies! But you'll be glad to know I've the rest of the fic outlined and hope to have it finished in the next few weeks (taps woods, throws salt over my shoulder, does not walk on cracks or under ladders...)
> 
> Thank you as always for all the comments, kudos, subscriptions and hits!

Ronan hated hospitals.

The sheets were scratchy, white monstrosities. They irritated the cuts along his arms from his shattered front window. The smell of them reminded him of army beds. Every morning he woke up, frozen and fearful, thinking he was back in the desert. Noah was still alive. Everyone was still alive. Then he'd remember like he was in the car crash all over again; bending metal and smashing glass and his bloody destruction.

He fucking hated hospitals. 

He hated the smell; the air thick with disinfectant and sick people and musky heat. He hated the nurses who kept taking bloods, and he hated how he had to wake at god knows what time for rounds every single morning. He hated medical students with there inane questions and stupid grins and attempts at comforting words. He hated the food that tasted of nothing and the painkillers that were making him loopy. He hated that all of it reminded him of being shot, reminded him of the last time he was in hospital and how much everything sucked. 

He didn't hate how Adam kept appearing day after day to visit. Despite the fact he should probably be in work. 

Ronan didn’t hate how he sat with him all day and seemed to have charmed the nurses into allowing him to stay past visiting hours. He definitely didn’t hate how Adam sometimes fell asleep and stayed the night, crashing in the chair by his bed, or how when he was there, Ronan’s nightmares never seemed to make an appearance. He especially didn’t hate how when he tried to apologise for the kiss, Adam had brushed it off with pink cheeks. Ronan decided to take that as a good sign, and than reminded himself he had a concussion, so he then decided that maybe he shouldn't read into any of it too much anyway. 

Being friends was enough for him. 

The room was too small; four white walls and one landscape painting. The windows didn’t open and were covered in long blinds. Ronan desperately needed to feel the wind on his face and wet muck and grass between his toes. Adam sat beside him in a chair, feet on his bed, reading a book. He looked stupidly cute with a pen between his lips that he occasionally used to write notes. Ronan had spent the morning watching him. He’d also spent the time tossing back and forth to try and find some sort of comfortable spot to east the pain; they were slowly lowering his dosage and each day brought more aching muscles and sore bones. He was uncomfortable, cranky and damn well bored. He ripped a lid off a pudding tub; they kept appearing from somewhere and they were the highlight of his day. “Parrish, when do I get to go hoooooommmmmeeee?” 

Adam grinned and shrugged. “They said in the next few days.” 

“Paaaaaarrrrrriiiiissssshhhhh.” 

“Yes, Lynch?” He looked up from the book he was reading with a grin. “How can I help you?”

“I'm fucking bored. Entertain me.” 

Adam rolled his eyes but he was still grinning. “I am entertaining you. I've been sitting with you for days.” 

“You're just sitting there reading, asshole.” 

Adam shrugged, eyes bright with laughter. “Well, at least I'm here. Gansey's gone back to D.C with your brothers for that supervisor meeting and Blue is at work.” He pulled his feet down and turned to face Ronan. “And yet here I am, flirting with the nurses so I can stay past visiting hours and get you extra pudding.” 

“So it's been you getting me extra pudding?” Ronan grinned. “I knew you loved me.”

The tips of Adam's ears turned red. “I'm pretty sure I've just been getting them for myself.” 

As if to prove the point he stole the pudding Ronan was currently eating straight from his hand. Grinning, he stuck a finger into the half empty pot and scooped out the end of the chocolate mess. He licked it off his finger in a way that made Ronan want to die. He could not tear his eyes away from Adam's lips. Blushing, he coughed and forced himself to look away. “Real nice Parrish. Super fucking hygienic.”

“Whatever.” He grinned and his teeth were covered in chocolate. “Tastes best this way.” 

“Yeah, I'm sure,” Ronan huffed, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Go flirt me some more pudding.”

Adam laughed a bright sound that made Ronan ache for him. “Fine. I'll be back in a minute.” 

When Adam left, the room was too small and too closed in and too not The Barns. It was artificial air and no beer and hurting all the time. Ronan’s phone vibrated, saving him from crawling from the bed and just signing himself out against doctors orders. 

_you not gonna talk to me then, fuckface?_

It was the fifth message Kavinsky had sent him. Ronan deleted it. Like he had all the other ones. Kavinsky could suck a dick for all he cared. He was the reason Ronan was stuck here. 

“Here.” Adam strolled back into the room and threw another pudding at him. “Enjoy.” 

Ronan threw his phone down and grinned, "Wanna play cards with me?"

"Last time you got huffy because I beat you in every hand." 

"I promise not to get huffy this time."

"So you accept that I'm better than you?"

"Shut the fuck up, Parrish, and get the cards."

Hours later, Ronan jerked awake to a dark room. The last clinging fingers of his nightmare scrapped at him and he blinked, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the black. Adam was asleep in a chair; a mirror image of Gansey. He scanned the room to find whatever had woken him up. Shadows clung the corners. The quiet chatter of night shift nurses echoed up the corridor. A thin stream of light illuminated half the wall. Kavinsky stood at the bottom of the bed, leaning against the wall and watching Ronan with hooded eyes. “What the fuck is up, man?”

Ronan stared at him, examining the low slung jeans and white tank, the too-thick gold chain and the bruises lining his arms. Electricity surged across his skin and for a moment all he saw was the white mitsubishi heading straight for him. “The fuck you doing here, dickhead?” 

Kavinsky shrugged a lazy shape. “Thought I'd see how you were doing." A smirk crossed his thin lips. "Heard you tried to kill yourself.” 

“Fuck you.” Ronan looked towards the door and thought about maybe pressing the call button for the nurse. It was just he was so tired and it seemed so far away. “Seriously, get the fuck out.” He pushed himself up in the bed, ignoring how the movement made him grit his teeth in pain. He couldn't be lying down with K towering above him; it made him too vulnerable. 

Kavinsky's smirk grew as he watched Ronan struggle. “You didn't tell anyone, did ya man?” There was a slightly sinister tone to his voice. “Because it wouldn't be great for either of us if you did.” 

“You already covered it, right? Daddy has the sheriff in his pocket?”

Kavinsky laughed so loudly Adam stirred in his sleep. “What can I say? Being the son of a complete asshole has its benefits.” 

Ronan wanted to climb out of bed and punch the smug look off his slimy face. He sat up further, flinching as pain from his ribs shot across his torso. “Why the fuck did you do it? I'm stuck in this god awful motherfucking hospital, and you nearly fucking killed me, you absolute asshole.”

“I told ya, Ronan-” Kavinsky said, walking over to the side of the bed and leaning on the steel edges. “-I’m bored.”

“You're bored? You're fucking bored?” Ronan shouted and Adam jolted awake. “That's your fucking excuse, man?”

“Ronan,” Adam asked, voice heavy with sleep. “What's going on?”

“Keep out of this, poor boy,” Kavinsky hissed. 

Ronan grabbed Kavinsky's collar and dragged him closer. His ribs and shoulder screamed in protest. “We're done, K. Me and you are so fucking done. Now get the hell out of my face.” He pushed the other man back as hard as he could.

Kavinsky fell back and stumbled into the wall; the thud of his head hitting plaster echoed through the suddenly silent room. He took a step forward, eyes trained on Ronan, "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Adam stood. “I think it's time you left.” Adam's voice was ice; tread too far and Kavinsky would fall.

Kavinsky took a step back. “Wow, man. No need to take it so seriously. Me and Ronan are just messing about, right?”

“Out,” Adam warned. “Now.” 

“Fuck you," K hissed. 

“Now.” 

Kavinsky looked between the two of them, pure hate written across his face. Ronan knew what he could see. Adam and him were a team; K was on the outside. “This isn't fucking over,” he said, mimicking Adams cold tones. 

The room was silent after he left. Adam sat back down and Ronan noticed his hands were shaking. He wanted to reach out and comfort him. Wanted to thank him. “You okay?”

“Could ask you the same question,” Adam muttered. “Tell me you're actually done with him.” 

“He crashed into me. He nearly killed me. He destroyed my dad's BMW. All because he was fucking bored.” Ronan rubbed a heavy hand down his face. “I did not go to war to deal with this shit.” 

Adam huffed out a laugh. “I mean at least you can joke about it.”

Ronan grinned. “Progress man. Fucking progress.” 

“What are you gonna do about him?” 

“I dunno, Parrish. I really don't fucking know.”


	32. Escape from Alcatraz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just fluff. Enjoy.

Adam woke with a start, unsure where he was. His neck ached from the angle he’d slept in the chair. Oh. He’d fallen asleep in Ronan’s hospital room. Again. Third time this week. He dropped his legs from the bed and stretched out his back, huffing in relief as it cracked. The lights were dim during the nights, and they were still dark, so Adam had to assume it was before rounds. He got up and went to the toilet in Ronan's private bathroom, rich people insurance really was everything, and washed his face and the back of his neck. He stole some of Ronan's deodorant and brushed his teeth with a stolen hospital one. One of nurse's had dropped it in when they realised Adam wouldn't be leaving. Even when they asked politely. 

Adam was aware he wasn't actually horrible looking but he'd never really flirted for anything before. He always felt it was like stealing. You worked for something. You earned it. You got it. Flirting was a cheap shortcut that dishonest people took. But that first night when they tried to get him to leave, and Ronan had looked at him with pleading eyes, Adam had decided maybe flirting wasn't the worst way to achieve his needs. He was a little shocked at how easily it had worked, and how it had continued to work throughout the week, but he knew he was a bit duplicitous by nature, so he just accepted it and used this new found talent to make Ronan's stay as pleasant as possible. 

He was not examining why he was doing this. Nope. He was just doing it and enjoying how each little thing made Ronan smile. 

It was the longest he'd gone without working in the last decade. Boyd had insisted he take some time off. Especially since he was due a whole bunch of holidays and _your friend is hurting, Adam. I have the garage covered._. Adam suddenly had two weeks off, and no idea what to do with all the free time, so he basically set up camp in Ronan’s room. The other man didn’t seem to mind, and Adam was ignoring the warmth that blossomed in his chest every time he made Ronan smile, or laugh, or distracted him from his boredom. The visit from Kavinsky was the only dampener on the whole week. Adam knew it wasn’t the last time they’d hear from him and he wasn’t looking forward to the reappearance. The whole thing had left him shaking with anger and adrenaline. He hated confrontation. Avoided it as much as he could. He knew Kavinsky could have lashed out at any moment. Adam had spent so long not feeling the force of a fist, he didn't want to get reacquainted now. 

Ronan was still asleep. Adam loved his face when he was sleeping; the tension fell from between his eyebrows and his lips went slack. He looked younger, a little like Adam imagined him to be before all the horrible stuff had happened to him. He stared at Ronan's lips a beat longer than he should, remembering them on his own. He licked his lower lip and bit it to stop the action. The memory was easily conjured and crystal clear from all the times he’d spent running it over in his mind. Picking up his phone, he text Persephone for an appointment. He needed to figure out the nagging feeling nibbling at his heart. It didn’t feel bad, but Adam just didn’t recognise the emotion, and it scared him. 

Hearing the nurses at the station laughing, he slipped out of the room and walked down to them, waving as he did.

“Stay here again?” Judy asked, a kind nurse who had slipped him way too many puddings over the past week. 

“Apparently,” Adam said dryly, pointing to his messed up hair. “Is today all sorted?”

“Yep, the doctor has agreed to sign him out early if you promise to bring him in twice next week for check-ups.”

Adam grinned, “I can do that. What time can he leave?”

“The doctors need to do one last check of his vitals and then you’re good to go.” She smiled. “Your boyfriend has no idea he’s getting out today, does he?”

“Not a clue. Will you make sure the doctor doesn’t ruin the surprise?”

Judy laughed, “Don’t worry. Everyone is well prepped.”

“Thanks, Judy.” He gave her an impulsive hug. “Seriously, thank you for looking after him.”

“He’s lucky to have you in his corner, Adam.” She handed him another two puddings. “Now, go wake him up before I have to. You’re the only one who seems to not incite rage.”

Adam laughed and grinned, “No problem.” 

It was only when he got back to the room, Adam realised he’d never corrected her on calling Ronan his boyfriend. The fact someone thought he could be Ronan's boyfriend filled him with a stupid burst of pride. Not only that he could be his boyfriend, but a _good_ boyfriend, someone worth having in his corner. "Lynch," he whispered, shaking him gently by the shoulder. "You gotta wake up. Nurses are coming around soon."

"Fuck off," Ronan mumbled, linking his hand around Adam's fingers. "Come sleep with me. It's warm here."

Adam laughed, willing the blush to fade from his cheeks. "Come on, Lynch. Stop trying to bribe me with a bed."

Ronan moved over and pulled at Adam' t-shirt. "Sleep, Parrish. It's good for healing." He rested his head on Adam's stiff shoulder. "See, sleep."

Adam was only slightly embarrassed by how easily he gave in and how quickly he allowed himself be pulled into the bed. He didn't mind though when Ronan turned onto his side with a huff of pain and threw his arm over Adam's waist. He definitely didn't mind how Ronan's breath was hot on his cheek, or how in his sleep Ronan gripped his t-shirt, lifting it up slightly and letting tips of his fingers rest on Adam's bare hip. He knew he should move. Knew Ronan would be embarrassed when he did wake up, but Adam was so warm, and the bed was so much more comfortable than the chair, and lying beside Ronan was more than he'd imagined it to be. He lay there for a few minutes just enjoying the sensation of another body pressed against his, trying not to groan when Ronan threw his leg over Adam's and pulled him even closer. Just one more memory to add to the kissing one. Something to keep him sane when the knowledge he was not even sort of good enough for the man beside him overwhelmed him. Once he heard the nurses starting their rounds, he slowly detangled himself and sat on the edge of the bed. Ronan followed him in his sleep, curling his body around the shape of Adam's. 

God, Adam ached to get back in beside him. Ached to wrap himself in Ronan's strong arms and forget all about work and his mother and his father and the crash and Kavinsky. But Adam was well practiced in denying himself what he wanted. He'd been hungry his whole life and one more ache was nothing in the long list of deprivation Adam suffered through. He stood gently, and tried waking Ronan again. 

It was easier this time. "Parrish, I dreamt..." Ronan glanced down at the bed confused. "I thought maybe..." He examined Adam again. "Eh, nothing." He shook his head sleepily. "Is it rounds already?"

Adam nodded. "Doctor will be around in a bit as well."

"Great. Just love being prodded and questioned and having lights shined in my eyes."

"It's alright, Lynch. You'll be out of here and all by next week."

Ronan groaned. "I hate you."

"Right back at ya, Lynch."

It was two hours later by the time the doctor had come and gone, giving Adam a not so subtle wink as he left. “Think my doctor fancies you, man,” Ronan said sullenly.

“Jealous?”

“Fuck you, Parrish.”

Adam laughed. “Right, you ready?”

Ronan shifted in the bed, grimacing as he did. Blue eyes focused on Adam’s face and he felt suddenly self-conscious. “Ready for what? Another riveting day of snap.”

“You were the one who kept insisting we play that game.”

“Only because you suck at go fish.”

Adam let out a long breath. “That’s because you have no idea how to play go fish. You can’t just hide the cards you don’t want.”

“Cheating and not knowing how to play are two very different things.” Ronan’s grin was pure alchemy; the magic of it made Adam forget to be pissed. “Anyway so what game shall we play today?”

“Well, I was thinking instead of playing a game, I could take you home.”

Ronan bolted up and grimaced. “Fucking what?”

“I'm springing ya, Lynch. Organised it with the doctor." Adam grinned as Ronan stared at him open-mouthed. "So do you wanna come home or do you wanna stay in bed bitching about card games?”

Ronan had already thrown the covers back, and gripping Adam’s shoulder, pulled himself from the bed. He grabbed Adam into a massive hug. “Thank you, man. Seriously.”

“Just couldn’t listen to you bitching anymore.”

Ronan laughed right in Adam’s ear. “Hand me my clothes, Parrish.”

“Get in the shower, Lynch. You stink.” He pushed him away and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Do me a favour, yeah? Don’t nearly die on any of us again. It fucking sucks, man.”

Ronan hugged him again, softer this time. Like he was trying to apologise with his body. “Sure, man. Anything you want.” 

Ronan hobbled to the small shower in his room and Adam sat back in the chair. He pulled out his phone and text Gansey. _The raven is showering._

_Brilliant, we’re mostly set up here. This is such a good idea, Adam._

Adam scrapped his face with his phone, embarrassed at how much Gansey’s compliment meant to him. _Everyone is there?_

_Dec, Ash and Matthew just arrived. Blue is finishing up her shift and is getting a lift over, so she’ll be here in a half hour and I’m here setting up._ This was followed by many, many fireworks emojis. 

_Did you do the sign?_

_Yes, but I don’t know why we can’t just get a new one?_

_Trust me, he’ll love it. The shower just switched off, we’ll be there in forty-five minutes._

Adam tucked his phone away just as Ronan walked from the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel, skin still damp and shining in the bright lights. He swallowed and couldn’t help, but allow his eyes to glide over the hard lines of Ronan’s torso, winching slightly at the blossoming bruises on his ribs. Scraps and cuts littered his arms and stomach. 

“Enjoying the view, Parrish? This is what the second time you can’t tear your eyes off me?” Ronan was giddy and grinning, seeming to enjoy this new confidence in flirting overtly with Adam.

Adam found he didn’t mind either. “Just checking out the mess you made of yourself.”

“Fuck off, I look tough.”

“Tough as roadkill, Lynch. Now get dressed and let’s get out of here. I hate hospitals.”

Adam averted his eyes as Ronan shimmed on underwear under his towel. Adam swallowed on a dry throat. He wanted to walk over and kiss Ronan until they were both breathless and weak. Instead, he examined his hands, listening to the rustle of clothes. When he glanced back up, Ronan was dressed and looked so much more like himself. Adam let out a sigh of relief, tension he didn’t even know he was carrying falling from his shoulders. A dark shape fell onto the floor from the bag Declan had brought him. 

"Parrish, what's this?" Ronan was holding the tiny black teddy Adam had bought the first day and "forgotten" to give to him. Ronan squeezed it. "Is this Chainsaw as a teddy?"

Adam shrugged, face burning. "I thought maybe you'd miss her so I bought you it and..."

"Didn't give it to me?" Ronan smirked.

"I forgot, alright? You were all doped out on drugs when I first got here, and I thought, I'll give it to him later, and then I dunno, you weren't doped out on drugs anymore, and I thought maybe I won't give it to him." Adam was aware he was babbling so he shut his mouth with a snap.

Ronan examined him and then the bird. A soft smile sketched itself across his face and Adam thought he might die. Of what, he wasn't sure.

"Thanks, man." Ronan squeezed the bird one last time and tucked it safely into his backpack. "Blue has her right?"

"Yep. She's the one who's been looking after her," he tried to say it casaully. "Blue and her family."

Ronan looked at him oddly but shrugged, "Great. Once she's okay."

"Let's get out of here," Adam said, standing. He had to remind Blue not to tell Ronan he was the one looking after Chainsaw. Something about the action felt exposing. He picked up Ronan's bag and waited for Ronan to shuffle out first. 

“If you hate hospitals so much,” Ronan asked as they walked out the front doors. “Why did you spent so much time visiting me?”

“Because I like you enough to suffer through them,” Adam answered, unguarded, defences down by the sight of Ronan finally looking like himself again; electric and alive, bigger than he seemed in the hospital bed. 

The blush that darkened Ronan cheeks made Adam’s heart ache in the best possible way. “Alright then,” Ronan replied, scrubbing his hand over his stubbly head. “Let’s go home.”


	33. You say goodbye like it's not a knife through the heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I'm so sorry. This chapter made me SO freaking sad. Hopefully, you don't feel as sad as I do. But seriously, I was trying to keep the fluff going. I _like_ the fluff. 
> 
> Anyway. I'm sad now. 
> 
> Thank you for the comments, they made me so happy. Also the kudos and just anyone taking the time to read this! I love you all.

Adam drove him home in his beat-up-piece-of-crap car. 

The sun shone black on the tarmac, reminding Ronan of the road the night of the accident. He shook the thoughts away. They had rolled down all of the windows on Ronan's request and were the wind screamed across the small space. It ran over his skin, inflating his clothes and removing the last of the false hospital air. Ronan hooted. Adam grinned over at him. The radio was a piece of shit but it still played the EDM he'd insisted on the minute the car started and the engine attacked his eardrums. It sounded like a dragon coming to life; except the dragon was old and cranky and had a fucking chest infection. He was _not listening to that shit all the way home, Parrish_. He'd laughed when Adam had complained _Lynch, this music sounds exactly like my engine so I dunno what you're talking about._

The car didn't have the same sound system as the BMW, and it was slow as fuck, but it was bringing him away from the hospital, and that was all he fucking cared about. He ignored the thrumming loss he felt any time he thought about his dad's car. He missed the BMW so much he could taste it. He pushed the feeling aside. Just like he was with the other things he didn't wanna think about; like how he hadn't seen Noah since the accident, or how sometimes when Gansey looked at him there was still a sliver of doubt in his eyes about Ronan's story, or how Adam had stared at him when he got out of the shower, or how Matthew had cried when he finally saw Ronan, or how Adam had been with him all week, or how Blue had screamed at him when she saw him before bursting into tears and having to be taken from the room by Gansey, or how Adam had was looking at him now, or how Ais still hadn't talked to him, or how Adam was _still_ here. 

Ronan was trying very hard not to stare at Adam. There was something extremely sexy about Adam driving _him_ that Ronan would admit to no one. Ever. He was in control in a way that had Ronan shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His hair was still messy from sleep, and the ever present tan had faded slightly, making him seem closer to someone that could maybe love Ronan one day. Like he was just a normal person, less ethereal and more human. Instead of Adam Parrish, literal genius and good friend and kind person and pretty face and understanding and funny and sarcastic and brave and... Shit, Ronan knew when he was in trouble. His commander used to call him a bad news detector. Like maybe having spend so much time looking for trouble, Ronan could now just sense when it was coming. It had saved them so many times in the field; this weird gift of his, and right now, it was screaming that he was _In Trouble_. God, Ronan didn't even care. He just wanted to touch Adam. He watched as he shifted from one gear to the next, knuckles moving beneath rough skin. 

He swallowed, and rolled up his window, so he could stare out of it. Seemed safer somehow. 

They were pulling into his driveway when Adam finally spoke, “Surprise.” 

Ronan grinned when he glanced out the front window. Everyone stood under the same sign he'd bought at the BBQ weeks before, except the BBQ had been crossed out, and now it read _it's a fucking welcome home party_. The words were squished together at the end because they'd run out of room. Something burst in Ronan's chest. 

“Ahhhhhh,” Noah whispered in his ear. “So cute.”

Ronan jumped, unsure if he was relieved or terrified that Noah was back. He thought _maybe_ if Noah was gone than the worst of it was over, that maybe he was getting better. The echoing laugh made Ronan wince; it was like Noah thought it was funny Ronan had been hopeful. It was a cruel noise, one he had never heard Noah make when he was alive. “I’m not Noah though, am I?”

Ronan jumped when Matthew, running by the car, knocked loudly on the window, gesturing him to get out. 

“You okay?” Adam slowed the car and glanced over at him. 

Ronan’s voice shook when he answered, “I'm good. Sorry. It's amazing.” The car stopped and everyone piled on it, shouting and screaming and laughing and crying. Ronan finally managed to get out, around the many bodies pressed up against the windows, and return the hugs. 

Hours later, he sat on the porch stairs watching Declan and Adam chase Gansey and Matthew with water guns while Blue sat on the picnic table offering commentary. 

“Oh and it's swift response from the history nerds, piling on the mechanics, and finally using their hidden water bombs.” Screams and battle cries echoed around the yard as a fresh attack began. "And they were double crossed as the mechanics had already stolen half of their supply."

Ronan laughed as Adam wrestled a water bomb from Matthew and chucked it at Gansey who was trying to sneak up on Declan. Every part of Ronan hurt and he couldn't care less. These wonderful, weird people had reminded him today just how _loved_ he was. It was a soothing warmth beneath his skin. It was in the easy smiles glancing across his face, and the way his heart seemed to trip over it every time someone grinned at him, or hugged him, or told him they were so glad he was better. It was in the way Declan whispered to him how it'd been Adam who looked after Chainsaw and how Adam had blushed crimson and ducked his head when Ronan thanked him. 

“Tell me this is the absolute last time you almost die on us, because this baby is coming out in two weeks, and I will ban you from seeing her adorable face.” The porch creaked under her currently larger frame. She winched. 

He'd never seen Ais self-conscious before, but all day, he'd seen her trying to make herself smaller. He wanted to hug her, and tell her that she was literally _creating life_ and she had nothing to be embarrassed about, but this was the first time she'd properly talked to him, and he hadn't wanted to push her. Ronan's heart surged as her words registered. “Her?”

“Oops, I was not meant to tell you that.” Something in her face told Ronan that was exactly what she meant to tell him. Ais was as scheming as Declan. If not more. “Don't tell Dec.”

Ronan laughed. “Only if you tell me her name.”

“Nope.” She said the ‘p’ with a satisfied pop. “But I will show you a video of her. Declan bought it for an obscene amount of money and transferred it onto my phone.” She fiddled around with her phone for a minute before handing it to Ronan. 

The video was in sepia tone and in 3D. Her eyes were closed, he guessed, he had no idea. She had little fingers and tiny toes. She had a fucking nose and lips and a head and a body and she was a real tiny person. Ais turned up the sound and he could hear her heart beating. Tears sprang to his eyes. A bubble of protectiveness and love burst in his chest. “Jesus Mary, Ais. She's perfect.”

“I know. And she needs her damn uncle alive.” 

He nodded, a red flush crossing his face. "I'm sorry, seriously." 

Ais waved the words away. "Mostly, she needs to get out," she said, changing the subject and he knew he was forgiven. She leaned back on her hands, her pregnant belly extending far past her tiny frame, and grinned as Blue screamed; the four men were now approaching her with full water pistols. “I need my body back. Seriously. People talk about pregnancy as this magical time with fairy and gumdrops and glowing sunlight and princesses.”

Ronan watched Blue jump up and reveal hidden water balloons. She started throwing them at the retreating men and screaming after them, _run, you losers, you better run_. “You mixed up some analogies there,” he finally said.

Ais pushed him gently. “I just want my body back, you know?”

“I do,” Ronan said, glancing at her. She was always way smarter than Declan. “How much had Declan told you?”

“Not much. Just when I threatened to kill you myself to save you the work, he mentioned you’re in therapy.”

Ronan glanced down at his empty wrist. His bands were in the bag inside. He’d forgotten to put them on in the rush to get home. The hospital bracelet tasted familiar when he raised it to his lips. “I know what you mean about wanting your body back. My brain. It’s not mine at the moment, but I am trying, and I didn’t try to kill myself. It was Kavinsky.”

“Oh, I know that too.” Ais waved him away. “Don’t worry, if I ever see him again, I will tear him a shiny new one.” The blank expression made Ronan sure she wasn’t lying. “Can we help?”

“I think it’s just slow going. Showing me shit like that though, of the baby, being here, it helps.”

Ais squeezed his hand before getting to his feet. Slowly. “Ro, you’re our family. I sometimes think you forget that. Just because your parents are gone…” She waved a hand over the yard that had dissolved into chaos. “It wasn’t the end of everything. It was just a reshaping.”

He nodded. “I’m glad Dec has you.”

“That man is lucky to have me.” She grinned. “Don’t worry, I remind him of that fact everyday.”

Ronan laughed as she walked away, picking up a forgotten water gun and skirting Declan right in the face. Declan screamed and grabbed a water balloon and Ais screamed, “Pregnant.” He put it down with a groan and then pulled her into a gentle kiss. 

Ronan couldn’t help but glance over at Adam. He was already looking back.

Blushing, Ronan grinned and then went in search of some painkillers. 

It was only later when everyone was asleep in various locations around the house that Noah found him. Ronan was still sitting on the front porch, bone-tired, but too buzzed up on joy and love to be able to sleep. He didn’t want this day to end. The warmth when it arrived beside him was uniquely Noah. 

“Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Ronan whispered back. When he glanced over, hesitant and scared, he was relieved to see Noah was himself; no bleeding or gasping or deathly paleness. Just Noah. “Where ya been?”

Noah shrugged. “You didn’t need me so...” He shrugged and mimicked a poofing gesture.

“And now?”

“You tell me.”

Ronan swallowed and stared out at the dark night. Cicadas sang. The heavy warmth was like a blanket around his shoulders. Wind kissed his bare shoulders and sang through the trees. His toes were thick with dirt but the ground was cool beneath them. He wasn’t stuck in a hospital or an army base or a dorm room. He wasn’t bleeding or dying or alone. He was home with his family. “I think it’s time I tell them. About you, I mean.”

Noah nodded. “Good.”

“You’re not mad?”

The sigh that fell from Noah's lips ran across the dirt and carried to the stars, echoing all the way to the heavens. “Ronan, I’m here because you needed me here. I’m here to help you survive, that's all. If you’re ready to tell them, then you don’t need me anymore.”

“I wish you were really here.” Ronan let the few tears fall. He missed his friend so much it ached. “I wish things were different, and you were here with me, and we were together, and everything had worked out like we planned." 

The stars twinkled down on them; a whole galaxy where nothing ever seemed to work out how it was meant to. A whole constellation of dead or dying stars screaming out their last breaths. The whole world intent to destroy itself, Ronan had seen that first hand with the guns and the bombs and the blood, and all he had ever wanted was this; Noah beside him, safe. An owl hooted to their left. Ronan jumped. “It’s not fucking fair,” he whispered.

“Nah, man. It really fucking isn’t.”

“Now I know it isn’t you." Ronan managed a short burst of laughter. "You never fucking curse.”

Noah grinned. “You know if I lived, this was what I wanted too?” He waved his hand over all the grass and space and freedom. “Me and you here, that’s all I ever wanted.”

“How do I know-" Ronan paused, wishing so badly what Noah had said was true. "-How do I know that’s not just my brain telling me what I want to hear?”

“All this is your brain telling you want you want to hear." Noah laughed but it was a kind noise. "It's also what you aren’t willing to listen to when _you're_ saying it. Apparently, you needed me to explain it to you. As always." Noah ran a hand up Ronan's arm, leaving a path of goosebumps in his wake. "Think about it, I never dated anyone else, never kissed anyone, never went anywhere without you. You were it for me.”

Ronan looked down at his fingers as Noah laced them together. They felt so real. He could feel the pulse in Noah’s wrist. He let more tears fall. “I guess.”

“No, Ronan.” Noah put two warm hands to his face and dragged it up until their eyes met. “You need to know this, I loved you. More than anything. It is not your fault I died. Not even one little bit. And if I could have it, this would be happening in real life. Not just because your brain was smart enough to know you couldn’t survive without me.”

Ronan huffed out a wet laugh. “Man, I loved you. Love you.”

“Well, go love Adam instead.” Noah still had Ronan’s face between his hands. He was wiping away the quickly falling tears with his thumbs. “I’m gonna go now, man. Tell them. Don’t forget me, please." His voice broke something in Ronan. "It's time to stop living with my ghost. You have so many living people to experience.”

Ronan nodded and didn’t stop Noah pulling him close. When their lips met, it reminded Ronan of every kiss before. Their first fumbling one in the dorm room when they had no idea what they were doing. The easy ones under the trees at the back of the school. The comforting ones when they missed their families. The heated ones when they discovered more of each other. Apologies. Regret. Love. Hope. Happiness. Simple touches. Longing ones. So much love and sometimes anger and sometimes pain. He remembered all the kisses. Especially the last one. The goodbye kiss. This felt the same. He was always _saying goodbye saying goodbye saying goodbye._

When Ronan opened his eyes, Noah was gone. He didn’t fight the tears this time.


	34. I want Life. Not a life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My best friend is visiting so you all get a new kinda angsty kinda fluffy chapter. *Mwah* 
> 
> TW; suicide is mentioned but mostly just the word because Kavinsky is a jerk. 
> 
> Also I'm so glad you all enjoyed the last chapter; the comments made me so happy!

Ronan sat outside 300 Fox Way and watched his hands tremble. They hadn’t stopped since he’d said goodbye to Noah four days ago. He was doing his best to hide it from Adam who was _still_ there. Staying with him in The Barns because it turned out Ronan was on suicide watch until cleared by a psychologist. Everyone close to him knew it had been Kavinsky, but it still ate at Ronan, knowing there were people in the world who thought he'd crashed on purpose. 

He gripped his hands around the steering wheel and leaned his head back against the seat. He couldn't get the image of Adam wandering into the kitchen earlier, wearing baggy pjs bottoms and nothing else, out of his head. Ronan had nearly choked on his coffee. There was miles of undiscovered skin dying to be touched _right in front of him_ and all he could do was glance down at his half eaten toast and cringe at how unfair his fucking life was. 

“I left the last egg for you,” he mumbled into his cup, hating how hot his neck felt. 

Adam grunted and Ronan heard him pour coffee. “Thanks, man. I promise I’ll be out of your hair once Gansey gets over this last section of writing.” Gansey, _of course_ , had wanted to stay but all his research and books and controlled organised chaos was in Monmouth. He was on a deadline that Ronan insisted he keep. “And I'll be out of your way today anyway. I’ve to head out for a few hours.”

Ronan managed to force his eyes up to Adam’s face and tried to write a casual grin across his too red face. “You’re the only person I know who works on their holidays.”

“I brought the job in. I just want to make sure they do it right.” He shrugged. “It’s important to me.”

“Is it a nice car?”

Adam’s face lit up. “When I’m done with it, the owner… I can’t wait to see their face.”

“Well, at least you’re enjoying it." The smile on Ronan's face was genuine this time. When Adam looked that happy, Ronan found he was too. "I’m heading out as well later so I’ll see you when I get back?”

“Movies?”

Ronan grinned, “Only if I get to pick.” 

He laughed as Adam groaned, “But you have such bad taste.”

The memory warmed his chest as the clock ticked closer to his appointment time. Sighing loudly in the quiet car, ignoring how much he _missed_ Noah, he got out and walked up the driveway. The door was flung open before he was even half way up. 

Calla’s face was puce as she glowered down at him. “If you ever do anything like that again,” she hissed. “I will bring you back to life just to kill you again. Do you understand?”

Ronan had survived basic training. He'd been yelled at by drill sergeants and shot at by enemies. He'd lived through explosions and dangerous heat levels and missing his friends and conversations with Declan about feelings. None of them compared to the shiver that ran over his skin at Calla’s words. He did not doubt for a second that she was telling the truth. 

He nodded. 

“Alright then, let's get this out of the way.” She hugged him, tight and brief. “Now, snake. We have some things to talk about.” 

They spend most of the session talking about the crash, ensuring Ronan wasn’t actually suicidal. “I’ll send my report onto your doctor. You’ll be cleared by early next week.”

Another few days living with Adam then, Ronan’s brain informed him smugly. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Ronan said, “Can I tell you about Noah?” The words fell from his lips, unexpected. They only had fifteen minutes left in the session.

Calla just raised an eyebrow in response. 

“Not that day, not yet, but can I just talk about him for a bit?” 

Calla sat back and waved a hand, giving Ronan the floor. 

He liked when she did that; not asking for specifics, just letting him lead the conversations. “Noah was…” he paused, trying to decide how best to describe him. “He was raw fucking energy. He turned up on the first day of senior year and pounded into the room we were sharing, and just started hiding things everywhere. He was pulling up floorboards and hiding alcohol, and pulling back the wardrobe to hide his skateboard, food went into a box and up into the ceiling, and all the while he talked to me, telling me about the best times to break curfew and get back on time, and how to mess up the schedule so you were never on clean up, and just ways to survive in the school without going mad, and then he just stopped, looked straight at me, shook my hand and was like, _I’ve been dead for seven years. That’s as warm as I get_.” Ronan laughed and Calla grinned. “He was a freak and I was _so_ into him. Like all it took was that first half an hour and BOOM, fucking love.”

"I'm this angry fucking kid sitting on the bed, in all black with these heavy boots on and a shaved head. My tattoo yells fuck off, and the music screaming from my earphones isn't exactly welcoming, and he just didn't care. Wasn't intimidated at all. Just smiled, wide and open. I was so used to people backing away from me, and he took me in with one glance, and decided _yeah I'll keep him_." Ronan stared down at his hands, picking at loose skin. "He was... Fuck, he was so awesome."

“How did you feel about being there?” Calla asked when she realised Ronan was struggling to continue. 

Ronan shot her a grateful smile. “I was fucking angry. Jesus, I felt like if someone touched me, they would burn there was that much pumping rage beneath my skin and this kid just walked in and calmed it, just a little. Showed me the world wasn’t over. And I wasn’t friendly, I was a fucking walking heart attack that never ended, and he liked that. Not in the way K does.”

“K?”

“Kavinsky,” Ronan spat the name out like a curse. “He wanted me to burn up like him. Noah, he was able to douse the flames. He showed me that even though everything was not what I wanted, it could still be good. After my parents, it felt like there was a vice around my lungs, and I was drowning, and I didn’t even know the right way up.” Ronan wiped angry tears with the heel of his hand. “Some nights we’d just sneak onto the roof, hold hands and watch the stars. It was fucking… I could breathe again.”

Calla examined him, eyes noting the tears and the fists. “You miss him.”

It wasn’t a question and Ronan didn’t answer it. “I lost him.”

The session ended but he didn’t feel lighter. It was like he’d dipped his foot in the dark, and he knew, soon, he was going to have to immerse himself fully. It was the only way to get to the other side. He wasn’t looking where he was going when he left, was still wiping tears from his eyes, so he didn’t see who he accidentally slammed into. 

“Ronan?”

He glanced up, right into Adam’s familiar blue eyes. “Shit. Fuck. Hey man. What are you doing here?” Red was seeping across Ronan’s face in a blaze of heat. He was still crying _for fucks sake_. 

“Appointment.” Adam pointed up the stairs to a tiny woman with more hair than body. “You?”

“Same.” 

Adam nodded. “I’ll chat to when I get home?”

“Sure, yeah. Go.”

Adam glanced back once, curiosity drawing his eyebrows together, before he walked up the stairs. 

The thin woman examined him and smiled brightly, talking low to Adam. The words still carried down the stairs. “I see what you mean, Adam. It is a dangerous ledge you rest on.”

Adam talked about him in therapy. Fuck. 

It was only when Ronan was in the piece of shit car he’d rented for the next few weeks that he realised Adam had called The Barns home. 

Adam found him in the field across from his house. Chainsaw flew above, squawking every few minutes. Adam slumped down beside him and his eyes crawled over Ronan’s bare chest. The day shimmered around them. _Deja vu_ , Ronan thought. This was the same spot he’d been in when he told Adam about the army weeks ago. So long ago it felt like a dusty, aged memory. It was the same day Ronan had kissed him. That memory burned. Ronan swallowed it away. It was okay Adam didn't want him. The most important thing was they were still friends. 

Adam didn’t say anything when he sat down, just pulled his knees to his chest and linked one hand around the other's wrist. They sat like that for a while, letting everything around them fill the silence stretching between them. Ronan wanted to touch him; to ease the tension from his shoulders and wipe the knot from between his eyebrows. He shifted closer, letting their bodies almost touch. He hoped it said he was here, but away. 

Adam stared at the horizon, at the mountains covered in hazy heat and the almost white sky stretching on forever. “It was my dad. The shitty person. My ear. It was all my dad.” His voice cracked on the last word and he coughed to cover it up. “He didn’t want me, I don’t think, and he just would get so mad at anything I tried to do. Eventually, after my-” he waved a hand at his deaf ear. “-I managed to get out.” He took a shuddering breath. “It's just, it’s not that I don’t want _things_ -" Adam glanced at him and away. "It’s just, it’s takes me longer to get there…”

“You need to think them through?”

A small laugh escaped Adam. “Yeah, thanks for noticing that.”

Ronan shrugged. “So you do want...things?”

“It takes me longer to catch up.” Adam glanced over at him again and gave him the hint of a smile. “I’m trying to figure some stuff out and I’m not there yet. I’m not ready.”

“Yet?” Ronan asked quietly.

“Yet,” Adam confirmed with a tone that left no room for doubt. 

They sat in silence until Adam’s stomach rumbled. 

“Alright, Parrish, here’s what we’re going to do. I shall cook and you shall choose whatever movie you want and I will watch it without complaint.”

“Without comments?”

“Without complaint is the best I can do.”

Adam grinned. “I guess I’ll take what I can get.” 

He stood and pulled Ronan to his feet. They were suddenly chest to chest, lips so close Ronan could feel Adam’s breath on his. Tempting. So tempting. Ronan pulled him into a hug instead. Adam was warm and hard. It took him a minute to wrap his arms around Ronan, but when he slid his hands softly up the plains of his back, Ronan thought he might just die there. 

“If you need anything, man,” he said into Adam’s ear, enjoying how the man shivered at his words. “I’m here.”

Adam pulled away and gave him a one shoulder hug. “Thanks for listening.” He examined Ronan. “If you need anything…”

“I know, I know. You’ll look after Chainsaw for me, and get me soft toys, and organise surprise parties, and stay with me when my best friend can’t. You are already doing everything, man.” Adam blushed, looked so pleased with the compliment that Ronan decided he was going to give him one every day between now and forever. He ignored the way his heart pounded at the idea of forever with Adam, “Let’s just go eat.”

When Adam crashed on the couch later, Ronan snuck out onto the porch to ring Declan. “I think he likes me but isn’t ready to do anything about it yet,” he said before Declan even said hello. Ronan had never thought of _yet_ as a romantic word but now it was rife with possibilities. “What do I do?”

“It’s half twelve on a monday night." Declan's voice was thick with sleep. "Are you seriously ringing me about your love life?”

He ignored the annoyance and amusement in his brothers tone and asked, “What do I do?”

“You fucking woo him, Ronan. Jesus mary. The man has two degrees, is smart and articulate, is stupidly attractive, and is willing to put up with you. So fucking woo him. Do shit for him. Bring him on dates. Buy him presents. Be kind to him. Look after him in return.”

“Tell him things. Like emotionally vulnerable things,” Ais shouted from the background. "Let him in."

“Yeah, all that shit," Declan confirmed. "Be open to him and see what happens. Take a damn risk that doesn’t end up with you in military school or the army or shot or in the hospital, yeah?”

“Thanks, Dec.”

Declan grunted. “Now, go away. I’m in work tomorrow.”

Ronan grinned and hung up the phone. _Wooing_. He could fucking do that shit. He just had to figure out what Adam _liked_ and what he'd accept. 

He was back on the couch twenty minutes later without Adam even knowing he'd left. When Ronan shifted, Adam's head slipped onto his shoulder. He glanced down at the soft look on Adam's face and grinned.

Wooing. Fuck yeah, that'd be easy.


	35. Are you flirting with me or is there something in your eye?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay on this chapter!! Haven't been well! But it's extra long to make up for it and it's like mostly fluff. 
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments! You guys are the best!!! 
> 
> <3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Adam's alarm cut through his sleep on Monday morning. He groped along the wooden floor until his grasping fingers hit off the noise. It took him a minute, like it had every morning for the past two weeks, to locate where he was. _Declan's bedroom_. He was still at The Barns. Calla had recommended Ronan have someone in the house for an extra week and Gansey still wasn't back. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the dark ceiling. Today was his first day back to work after two weeks and he was surprised by how _little_ he wanted to go. Work had always been a place to escape for him, and for the first time in forever, Adam didn't want to escape.

Huffing, he pushed himself up and turned on the lights. The brightness stung his eyes. He had his clothes laid out and he threw them on, washing his face and teeth after. Six am was a disgusting time that should not exist, he thought as he threw one last wistful glance at his still-warm bed. He was quiet as he snuck past Ronan's room; he needed to rest. The bruising on his face and ribs were fading but he was still limping everywhere and winching at the slightest touch to his shoulder. Recovery was going to take awhile. 

Adam didn't expect the kitchen light to be on when he slinked past. Pausing, he pushed the door open. Ronan was standing over the oven, topless. The only downside to living at The Barns had been access to topless Ronan or sleepy Ronan or competitive Ronan or funny Ronan. He was so comfortable in his home, Ronan had no need to keep up the angry facade he showed the rest of the world, and every extra bit he was shown felt like a win to Adam. Topless Ronan was a unique form of torture; he was all tattoo and muscles, broad shoulders and tiny waist. He was strong arms and collarbones, a smirk that said he knew Adam was looking and a blush that said he knew Adam was _looking_.

Adam swallowed. “Hey, man. What you doing up?”

“Making you breakfast," Ronan answered, still facing the oven. "Can't send you off to your first day back without sustenance.” He turned around with flourish. “Fucking chocolate chip pancakes.” 

“You made me… You made me pancakes?” 

“Yeah man, I mean it's not a big deal or anything. I'm going back to bed the minute you fucking leave.” A red flush crawled across his sharp cheekbones. “Just eat the fucking food.”

Adam heart stuttered, unsure what to say. Swallowing again, he took the plate and muttered “Thanks man.” 

They ate in silence, cutlery scraping across ceramic plates. Ronan wouldn't look up from his food and Adam wouldn't stop staring at him. The tips of his ears were red and there was a slight tremble in his hands. Adam had noticed it since the accident but hadn't said anything yet. He could feel the heat of the other man's legs brush against his under the table. Not quite touching but close enough for an impression of closeness. When he finished, stealing one last lingering glance, he pushed the plate away. “Man, they were good.” 

“Yeah?” Ronan stood and picked up the plates. Dumping them into the sink, filled with a surprisingly large amount of flour covered bowls, he turned and pulled open the fridge. “Lunch.”

“Lunch?” Adam squeaked.

“Yeah, man. I knew you wouldn't fucking make yourself anything because _it's your food, Ronan_ so I made you lunch.” He thrust the cooler bag at him. “It's got granolas bars and some sandwiches and carrots and humus and popcorn and chips and a chocolate bar.” Ronan laughed. “But only eat that when you've eaten everything else, young man.” He wagged his finger at Adam and laughed again. 

“Loser,” Adam responded but he was smiling

Ronan laughed harder and grinned so bright Adam felt it in his bones. “Whatever, Parrish. You love it.”

“Thanks for this.” Adam ignored the blush crawling over his cheeks. “Seriously.”

“It's nothing.” Ronan shrugged. “You look after me. I look after you. It's only fair.” 

Adam stared, sure Ronan couldn't understand him that well. No one understood that part of him. Even if they knew about his mental calculations to make sure all his relationships were in the black, no one ever let it be. There was always some conversation about it not being necessary or _that's not how friendship works, Adam_ or _just let me do this for you_. No one ever really understood that Adam had to earn everything he recieved. Even in friendship.

Ronan coughed, uncomfortable. “Fucking what, Parrish? You're staring.” 

“Ehhhh, nothing.” He rubbed the hair on the back of his head. “I just mean thanks.” 

Ronan handed him the little blue cooler bag. It was painfully adorable, but Adam swallowed down the words, because Ronan already looked so embarrassed, and no one had ever made Adam two meals in a row for _no reason_. It was always because they had to, because he was their bastard kid, because his teachers were complaining, _because because because_

Ronan had just done it. 

“So like, what do you want for fucking dinner?” 

Adam dragged himself away from dark thoughts of days with one meal and his mom not cooking for him and his dad taking his food away and no money and a hollow stomach and sleepless nights because he was too tired to sleep and... 

“Adam?” Ronan said his name softly. “I didn't mean to upset you or cross a line or anything. I just wanted to…” He stopped talking.

Adam glanced up and examined the soft lines of Ronan's face. “Lasagna. Please.” 

A bright, easy smile lit up Ronan's face. “I can make lasagna.” He glanced up at the kitchen clock. “You better go, man. You'll be late.”

“I'll see ya later?”

“Movies and lasagna.”

“And garlic bread.”

Ronan laughed, “Fuck off, Parrish. I wanna go back to bed.” 

Adam grinned all the way to work. There was a soft, gentle warmth spreading through his chest and arms. He gripped the steering wheel as a pleasant tingly feeling wrapped around his fingers and laughed a short burst of joy. Lunch. Ronan fucking Lynch had made him lunch. 

Adam arrived back at The Barns on Wednesday to homemade pizza and a book sitting on the counter. 

“Theoretical engineering in sci-fi movies?” He asked, picking it up and reading the back. “I didn't think you were into sci-fi movies. You always complain when I make us watch them.”

“Oh yeah man. I picked that up for you.”

“Why? What? For me?”

Ronan had his back to Adam, topless again. Like he'd forgotten t-shirts were a thing. The dark tattoo scrunched up under the tight muscles of his back. “I was out and I saw it and you're always nerding out when we watch those stupid fucking movies so I just thought you'd fucking like it.” He still wasn't looking at Adam, was dishing up food with his back to him. “It's okay if you don't want it.”

“I definitely want it, man,” Adam said, already flicking through it. “Look at this cool part about how spaceships fly.” 

Ronan sighed in a mockery of a long-suffering friend. "What have I done?"

Since there was a massive, relieved smile crossing his face, Adam decided not to worry too much as he went into a detailed account of how the book correlated to his knowledge of engineering. Dinner passed in a pleasant bubble of good food and attentive company. Ronan asked all the right questions and listened to Adam's explanations with rapt interest. It was the happiest Adam had been since he'd arrived home so many months ago. At one point, Adam gripped Ronan's wrist to explain a point, wrapping his long fingers around the soft skin there. 

Neither of them made any move to free themselves of the contact. 

That night Adam jolted awake to the sound of shouting. He was out of bed and down the corridor before his half-awake brain had caught up with his body. Ronan’s bedroom door was open a slit and he could see the man tossing in the bed. Sweat laced his skin, gleaming in the moonlight. He was asleep, but crying, steady tears cutting his sharp cheeks in half. Adam pushed the door open, and braced his hands on the door jamb, unsure whether or not he should go any further. It only took one more sob before he was crossing the room. He placed his hand gently on Ronan's overheated shoulder and shook him gently, ignoring how some part of his brain registered how soft the skin was under his fingertips. 

“Ronan,” he whispered, voice below a whisper. “Ronan. You're dreaming. You gotta wake up.”

Ronan shifted, whimpering and burying his head on his pillow. The muscles in his neck were tight against his skin and his shoulders were razor sharp. He sobbed again. His fingers wrapped in the sheets, bulging forearms and tense biceps. 

Adam shook him again, a little harder this time. “Ronan, wake up. Come on, man. Wake up.”

Ronan shot up in the bed, hands reaching for something that wasn't there. He gasped in a wet breath. Wild eyes darted around the room until they landed on Adam's face. “Jesus Mary, Adam. Fuck.” He gasped in another breath, ran his hands across his head and down his face. He was trembling. “Motherfucking fuck.”

“Are you okay?”

Ronan wouldn't meet his eyes. “Am I okay? Are you okay?" His voice was shaking with unshed tears. "You shouldn't have come in here. I could have... What are you doing?” 

Adam sat back a little. “You were having a nightmare.”

“Yeah. I have those.” Ronan slumped down against the wall, wiping his face try with the heel of his hands. “I didn't mean to wake you. Sorry.”

Adam stared at him like he was crazy. “Wake me? Ronan, you were having a nightmare. It's _fine_. Are you okay?”

Ronan laughed a bitter noise. “Do I seem okay?”

Adam stared at him. Ronan glanced up, and away. He wrapped his arms around his still heaving torso. It was a few minutes before either of them spoke again. The only noise was the harsh inhales Ronan was still taking. 

“It’s therapy,” he finally said. “I have to… I have to talk about…”

“The army?”

Ronan nodded. “So I get home from the sessions, and I have nightmares because I've been talking about it, and I thought I was getting them under control, and then the crash happened, and fuck, it just knocked everything back, and now I'm just… Man, I'm so fucking tired.”

“Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?”

Ronan shook his head. “I'll just watch some movies until morning.”

“Want company?”

Ronan looked like he was about to refuse and then his shoulders slumped. “You don't mind?”

“Well, once you don't choose some terrible comedy.”

Ronan laughed. “Your choice, man. Whatever you want.”

Adam woke when his alarm went off, head resting in Ronan's lap. Ronan's fingers were wrapped gently in his hair. His thumb was rubbing soothing circles into his temple. Adam fought the urge to sigh into it. He was so warm it was like he'd been dipped in warm oil and left to relax. Ronan was watching the same show they'd been watching when he'd falling asleep. There were heavy black bags under his bloodshot eyes. He was pale with tiredness. Adam pushed himself up, regretting the loss of Ronan's hands and realised just how little he'd slept. It was going to be a long day.

“Hey man,” Ronan said, voice thick with sleep. “I'll get breakfast while you get ready.”

Adam was too tired to argue. 

To his confusion, the food kept coming. Every meal, Ronan cooked. All week. He'd wasn't sure what to make of it but he stopped questioning it. Ronan just looked embarrassed when he did. Like explaining why he was doing it caused him physical pain. After breakfast on Friday, Ronan handed him his cooler bag and a lunch box of cookies. “You said you buy donuts for your team on Fridays, right? I thought maybe cookies would be cool to?” 

“You made cookies?”

“Parrish, you're fucking staring again. You know I can cook.”

Adam mentally shook himself. “Yeah, I know. It's just, okay, look…” He took a shuddering breath. “...Why are you being so nice to me? All week. I'm not complaining but, I just, man, I don't understand.” It was like his brain was overloaded on too much kindness. All his defences were breached and an alarm was screeching _run run run_.

Ronan rubbed the back of his head. “Man, I'm fucking bored," he finally said. "I'm still injured. Jesus Mary. I can't work on the farm. I don't have the BMW. I can't talk to... I can't do anything. Cooking, it's just something to keep me busy and you're staying here _with_ me, and that's adding like half an hour onto your drive every morning, and it's my fault for fucking racing.”

He looked so sincere Adam couldn't help but smile. “Alright, man. Thanks.”

“You going to see your mam tonight?”

Adam shook his head, “Twice a week is enough for me.” 

“Cool, well, do you wanna go to dinner then?” Ronan threw the words out with a casualness that seemed forced. He continued when Adam didn't say anything, “Tonight I mean. Declan and Ais got me a voucher for some nice place, like as a welcome home and thanks for not dying thing, and I've no one to fucking go with…” He put his leather bands in his mouth and looked at Adam hopefully. 

It was very early and Adam had no idea what he was meant to say. Dinner with Ronan. Like a maybe date. Maybe. “Sure,” he said before he could kill the pleasure soaking through him with things like logic and thought. “What time?”

“I'll pick you up from work.” 

“Okay, I… Well, I better go.” Adam went to leave, and then thinking better of it, ran upstairs to grab some clothes so he wouldn't have to go to dinner in his overalls. He waved once more at Ronan who was scrubbing dishes in the kitchen and left. 

Work for the week had been a blur of catch-up; admin, orders and crappy mechanic jobs so the rest of the team could continue on their refits. Whenever he got a spare moment, he'd pull the sheet off the BMW and list everything that had to be done to get it back into decent shape. The front bender was completely bent, crushing it beyond usefulness. Adam has already removed the battered and broken engine and it was resting on the a work table by the car. The four wheels were burst, hubcaps either bent or missing. They were piled on a corner. All of them would have to be replaced. The front window was smashed. Glass littered the seats. The other windows were a spiderweb of cracks and chips. They'd all need to be replaced. 

Adam ignored the blood splattering the front seat. It made something ache inside him. 

The back of the car was dented from what Adam assumed was Kavinsky's car. Every time he thought of him hitting the car a terrifying black anger roiled beneath his skin. It reminded him that he was his father's son and it scared him. Pushing it away as he always did, he continued his checklist. 

“Adam,” Tim called from across the shop floor. “Thank your boyfriend for the cookies. They're way better than donuts.”

“Way better,” another voice called from under the hood of a car. 

“I TRIPLE THAT,” Jessie called. “MORE COOKIES FROM YOUR MAN FRIEND.” 

Adam blushes and shrugged. “He's not my boyfriend,” he muttered.

“Sure, Adam. We believe you.” Joey said, one of the younger mechanics and the most accepting when Adam had taken over. He was on the late shift all week.“Much to do tonight?”

Adam shook his head. “Sorry, you're just here for drop ins. I've done all the general jobs and everyone else has been assigned tasks.” 

“No problem.” Joey shrugged. “Any chance you want me to start on this? You've done up the checklist?”

“Just finished but this isn't a paid job. This is… Well, it's for a friend.”

“Your not-boyfriend?”

Adam snorted. “Something like that.”

“Well, if I'm doing nothing else? I mean I don't mind. You'd be doing me a favour. I'm here until midnight.” 

He sounded so genuine about it being a favour for him, and Adam knew Joey hated doing nothing during his shift, so he couldn't but nod. “Alright then.”

“Brilliant.” Joey smacked him on the back before turning and calling through the garage, “He said yes. We can help.”

A cheer went up. 

Adam shot a look between Joey and the rest of the garage. “Wait, what?”

“Nothing, man.” Joey smirked. “Just we all want to help. You've made it…” Joey lowered her voice here and leaned into Adam. “You made it better to work here. Longer breaks. Better coffee. Commision on our refits. Donuts. Now cookies. Also we know buying us beer and pizza is expensive, and you're not paid that much more than us, and like honestly, just let us do this, it'll be good for team morale and all the shite.”

A hot blush spread across Adam's cheeks. He nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

Joey nudged shoulders with him. “You a great manager, Adam. We all think so.” 

“I better get the last of those orders done,” Adam managed, walking back to the office cheeks burning.

Sitting down at his desk, Adam blew out a long exhale. He didn't know what had gotten into everyone this week. There were too many compliments, too much kindness. People acting like having him around was a good thing. It settled into his bones, made him feel like he was worth something. Panic danced across his nerves like an electrical storm. He couldn't... Grabbing his phone, he text Persephone for an appointment. He knew he was meant to accept this, knew it was normal, being appreciated and liked, but it made him feel like a fraud. He was none of the things people seemed to think he was. He was dirt from a trailer park. Even when he wasn't. The thought scared Adam; he was meant to be beyond that sort of thinking. His phone chirped. Persephone was free in the morning. Breathing slowly, Adam calmed the pulsing beneath his skin and went back to work. He would talk about this with her tomorrow. Right now he had work to do. Shrugging off the lingering doubt, he forced himself to get lost in his paperwork.


	36. A man after my own heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just fluff, but also at the end, slight angst. 
> 
> TW; canon level abuse discussion. Poor Adam. 
> 
> Mostly though, fluff.

The restaurant was _nice_. Low-lit with lots of dark wood and candles, couples murmuring to each other over tables covered in wine and glasses and cutlery. Ronan followed the hostess to their table and Adam lagged behind, glancing around. One wall was covered in expensive looking wine and another was books and well placed lamps. Red-brick, laced with twinkling lights, made the room cosy. The tables were all heavy wood and dark leather. He glanced back at Ronan who was smiling at him from the table; not sitting down until Adam did.

Adam had almost choked when Ronan turned up at the garage, leaning against his black rental car with the sun shining down on him, dressed in a dark shirt and slacks. His head was freshly shaved, collar tight against his neck, highlighting his sharp jaw and easy smirk. The talons of his tattoo clawed over the edges and his eyes followed Adam's movement. Adam had felt suddenly self-conscious in his navy shirt and grey slacks. 

The hostess stood by the corner booth, dragging Adam back to the restaurant, and away from images of Ronan in the sunlight, looking like some sort of avenging god. He sat and Ronan followed. She put the menus down and smiled. “I'll come back for your order, but can I get you some drinks?”

Ronan smiled at her tightly and Adam realised he was nervous. Something about the realisation made his heart clench. Before he could stop himself, he’d reached across the table and gripped Ronan's hand. “Thanks. Can we just get two beers please?”

“No problem.” She took the drinks menu with her as she left. 

Ronan’s shoulders slumped. “I hate places like this,” he muttered, flicking through the menu. 

“Has Declan written all over it though.”

“Ha, yeah. Declan.” He rolled his eyes. “So what are you getting?”

“Burger.”

“Burger and beer,” Ronan hummed. “Man after my own heart.”

Adam blushed. “Everything else is…” He waved his hand over the menu. 

“Yeah, I get ya man. Too much." He rubbed the back of his head, eyebrows bunched together. "Noted.” 

Adam squeezed his hand. “You look nice though.” The words fell from his mouth like an easy splattering of spring rain; gentle, healing and soft. Ronan glanced over and Adam looked away, closing the menu and blushing. “I mean… Like…” He shrugged. 

“Yeah, you look good too.” 

The words were said so softly that Adam _had_ to look up, getting caught in Ronan's stare when he did. He wasn't sure when they'd gotten so close, wasn't sure why Ronan was a collapsing star he couldn't escape from, but the blue pools sucked him in until he felt like he couldn't breathe. Ronan licked his lips. Adam dragged his eyes away long enough to follow the movement. He bit his bottom lip to stop himself surging forward and closing the space between them. The clink of glasses broke the spell. 

Adam slipped back, grabbing the cold bottle, and took a long gulp of beer. “Thanks,” he said to the waiter. 

“Ready to order?”

“We'll both have the cheeseburger, thanks,” Ronan said, voice thick. 

The waiter wrote it down and looked up expectantly, “Anything else?”

Ronan looked at Adam who shook his head. “Nope, that's it thanks,” he answered the waiter, not taking his eyes off Adam. 

Adam swallowed.

When the waiter was gone, the silence that settled between them was tense. Not uncomfortable tense. Just wary of how close they'd come to kissing tense. Adam looked down, away from the other man's examination. _He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready._ He wanted Ronan and he wanted to run far away from him.

“How's your special project going?”

Adam jerked his eyes back to Ronan; he looked resigned and maybe a little bit disappointed. It still bit at Adam how easily Ronan seemed to be able to read him. “It's good. The rest of the team are helping so I'm hoping it'll only take a month or so.”

“Big job so?” Ronan took a gulp of beer and Adam watched as he swallowed. 

“Yeah but it'll be worth it. How's your shoulder?”

Ronan shrugged and winced, “Same. Better. Physio is kicking my ass but like so is life.”

“They never told us it'd be like this, did they?”

“Like what?”

“So damn hard.”

Ronan grinned. “Nope.” 

They fell into easy conversation complaining about the rulebook they hadn't been given when they reached adulthood. Ronan was chafing at the collar, slipping his finger into it to ease the pressure, and the thought he'd worn it just to impress Adam made the now familiar warmth heat his chest. The food, when it arrived, was good, although not as good as Ronan's, and he blushed when Adam said as much. 

When they were done eating, Ronan looked at him expectantly. “So we can get dessert or get the hell out of dodge?”

“Yes please. Somewhere less…” Adam waved his hand over the too nice restaurant. “But maybe not home yet?”

“Second destination. You got it,” Ronan answered, waving his hand for the bill.

The cliff was as breathtaking as Adam remembered. They'd both shedded their shirts and were in white vests and dark slacks. Leaning arm to arm against the grill of the car, they sat on a blanket Ronan had brought, watching Henrietta twinkle like starlight. The night was warm and heavy, alive with the shouts of nature and the impatient call of wind through the trees. It felt like they were the only two people in the world. 

“Thanks for bringing me tonight.” 

“Thanks for coming, man. That place would have been unbearable alone.”

“Yeah, not exactly a Ronan Lynch location.” 

Ronan smirked. “My parents used to take us to places like that a lot. Make us dress up.” He waved his hand at himself. “We had this game where we'd pretend we were grownups, and we'd have to come up with grown up jobs, and the most convincing one got to pay the waiter with money dad slipped us.” He had a soft smile on his lips that lit up his face. “It was fun, you know?”

Adam didn't know but he liked the story anyway. “Do you miss them?” 

“Every day. Not as bad as before." He profile was sharp against the moonlight, and he reminded Adam of the first time they'd come up here. Ronan was still too pale, ghostlike in the moonlight. It seemed like if Adam moved too quickly he might fade away and disappear. The edges from before were still there, waiting to cut anyone who got to close, and yet, Adam wasn't afraid of them anymore, felt like maybe he was on the inside looking out, like Ronan would protect him with those sharp bits instead of hurt him. "I'm used to it now," Ronan continued. "But sometimes it hits me really badly. When I'm doing the most mundane thing and I miss them in a way that could drown me. Mostly though, it's just a dull ache. Noah…" He took a shuddering breath. "It's worse when I think about him.”

Adam wanted to reach out and smooth out the tight knot forming between Ronan's eyebrows. “Because it just happened?”

Ronan nodded. “Life's hard, you know? So you gotta pull all the good out of it that you can. This right here.” He glanced at Adam and away, some unreadable expression in his face. “This is really fucking good.”

“That's the first time you cursed all night.”

“I was trying to fucking impress you. Did it work?”

Adam laughed at the grin on Ronan's face. “I'm always impressed by you. You might be one of the best people I've ever met.”

Ronan swallowed. “Thanks, Parrish.”

“Anytime, Lynch.” Adam grinned. “Just next time you try to impress me, don't take me to the fancy restaurant. Especially since we both just felt out of place.”

Ronan nudged shoulders and wrapped his long fingers around Adam's. “Anything you want, man. Anything you want.”

The next morning Adam woke from warm dreams of hand holding and candles and gentle smiles and even softer touches. He stretched out in Declan's bed and let the warm feeling Ronan caused spread through his limbs. When he got downstairs, Ronan was already making breakfast. 

“Hey man, pancakes?” 

Adam nodded. “Thanks. I've gotta head in a bit though.” He sat down and swallowed, getting up the nerve to be honest. “I've an appointment with Persephone. My… Em… My therapist.”

“That's good, man. That's really good.” Ronan put a cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes in front of him. “Eat your food. It'll help with all the emotional band-aid ripping off-ness.”

Adam snorted, “What?”

“I don't fucking know, man. I don't fucking know.” He was laughing an easy noise and Adam grinned back. “Just eat your fucking pancakes.”

Persephone smiled when she opened the door, “Adam. Let's sit on the porch today.” She had two cokes, one of which she handed to him. “It's shaded and the heat is making my hair grow.” 

Adam didn't want to admit that she did look more frazzled than usual so he just nodded, following her out to the steps of the porch. 

They watched the street for a few minutes in silence. There was a very competitive game of rounders happening and the squeals of the kids cut through the sleepy Saturday morning. “So tell me what's on your mind, Adam?”

Adam sighed. “My mom is getting worse. They're not sure how much longer she has left.” 

"How do you feel about that?"

"I guess it is what it is. I'm sad. I'm angry. I'm tired. All the usual." He watched as a little boy sprinted around some of the older kids and got to homebase. He was dancing and cheering, laughing because no one had thought he'd be able to do it. One of the older kids picked him up on his shoulders and did a lap of honour. Everyone was cheering him now. Adam couldn't help but wonder if he had ever had a day that good when he was little. "It's the same, I guess. Nothing changed." 

“So that's not why you came?”

Adam rolled the cool glass between his sweaty palms. “I feel like… It just feels like it's spinning out of control.”

“What is?”

“I don't understand why everyone is being so... Like the mechanics at work, they're helping me fix Ronan's car because they think I'm a good manager, and this is like a way to pay me back I guess, and they all think Ronan is my boyfriend but they don't care I like men, and I'm staying at The Barns because Ronan needs a person, and god Persephone, I just want…” He took a wet breath. “I don't deserve this, any of this kindness or love or respect, but they're all looking at me like I do. Like I'm worth something and I'm not, honestly, I'm just not.” He was crying now and he wasn't sure when it started. Choking sobs ripped up his throat and he barely noticed when Persephone pulled him in close. She didn't try to stop him crying, just stroked his hair and hummed comfortingly. “My dad was right. He was right. I'm nothing and I feel like I'm lying to everyone and once they figure out who I really am...” It hurt how much he was crying, how violently the sobs were leaving his body, ripping themselves free like shrapnel from a wound.

“Adam, you poor child.” Persephone's voice was firm but kind. “Your father was not right. Not once is his whole life was that man _right_ and certainly never about you. You are a magnificent man and you deserve every good thing that happens to you.” She gently pried him from her body until he was looking directly into her black eyes. “The reason you are reacting this way is because the last of his poison is finally leaving your system. The last few tentacles are clinging on like a hungry octopus. Adam, you deserve the compliments and the help and the love. You deserve Ronan. You deserve a good work life. You deserve all that and so much more. Don't ever for one second believe anything else to be true-” she paused to examine him; tears were still running freely down his face but he'd stopped gasping in air like he was drowning. “Remember what I always say, you are not broken. You were never broken. You are not responsible for others actions. Only your own. Do the list.”

Adam took a shaky breath. “I survived. I got out alive. I went to college. I funded myself. I have formed lasting friendships. I've never raised my fist in anger.” Adam wiped a shaking hand over his eyes. “I am not broken.” 

“You are not broken.” She examined him again. “Now drunk your coke. You need some sugar.”

“He took me to dinner.” He sipped the coke and watched the trembling in his hands calm down. “I don't know if I'm ready for him.”

“How do you feel about him?”

“I think I-” Adam swallowed and looked into the glass of fizzing liquid. “I think I…” The words were there, sitting in his throat like hard candy, but they wouldn't move into his mouth. “Persephone, I think I…”

“It's okay. You don't have to say it.”

He nodded, relieved. “What do I do?”

“Go to dinner with him.” She smiled. “Talk to him. Let him in.”

“That's it?”

“That's it. Just take the first step. You'll figure out the path on your way.”

“I don't wanna mess it up.” 

“It's okay if you do. It doesn't reflect badly on you. You're not broken, Adam.” She handed him her coke when he finished his, gesturing him to drink. “Take it as slow as you need but let him in, okay?”

Adam nodded, “Okay. I can do that.” He finished his coke. “Want me to wash these glasses for you?” 

Persephone shook her head, “Go visit Blue. She's upstairs and I'm sure she misses you.” 

Adam nodded, and after one last quick hug, he went inside. He had to step over two children he didn't recognise on the stairs and he could hear Maura and Calla in the kitchen cooking pies. The whole house was a warm hug after the stress of the session. Blue's bedroom door was open and she was lying on her bed, head flopping off it, reading upside down. 

“Hey buddy, where you been hiding?” He asked, leaning against the doorjamb. Blue's room was as familiar as his apartment in St. Agnes. He'd spent too many nights here when he was younger, studying and hiding out and just hanging out. The walls were still covered in peeling trees but they'd been covered in pictures of her travels and postcards and train tickets and a whole life lived.

Blue rested her book on her stomach and smirked at him. “Could ask you the same question." She watched him, eyes searching his face. "Session?"

He nodded, "I'm okay. Just some stuff." He stepped into the room and sat down, leaning against the bed. "What've you been up to?"

She laughed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Gansey, work, Gansey, family, Gansey.”

“Oh you and Gansey are dating? I didn't know.”

“I know, right? Never mention him. Never bring him up.” Her breath was hot on her cheek as she spoke. “I've just never felt like this before.”

“I know what you mean." An image of Ronan standing by the car in the sunlight flashed through his brain. "I really do.”

She snorted. “How'd we get mixed up with these men, Adam?” 

“I've no idea, Blue. I couldn't fucking tell you.” 

“No cursing in my room." She laughed, slapping his shoulder. "Ronan is rubbing off on you.”

"I wish," he muttered.

“Wanna go the cinema? Get too much food and feel like vomiting afterwards?”

Blue was already up and putting on her shoes, “You read my mind. Let's go.”


	37. Fireworks and flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I've added an end number of chapters! How exciting!! Hopefully it won't change! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's commented and supported me so far, you're all the best! I'm excited that I may actually finish this soon!
> 
> TW: Canon complaint death

_Fourth of July, bitches._ Blue put into the group, following it with way too many fireworks emoji. _Let's celebrate._

_Adam and I are having a BBQ party thing._

_You & Adam, eh?_

_Shut the fuck up, maggot._

_Whatever asshole. Me & Gansey will be down about two. We've got fireworks._

_Bring booze._

_Obviously._

Ronan grinned and threw his phone on the bed. He could hear Adam moving about in Declan's room. Calla had given him the all clear so Adam would be going back to his apartment tomorrow. Ronan was not looking forward to being alone in the house. _Actually alone_ with Noah gone. 

Adam knocked on his door jamb, body half in and half out of the room. “We're having a party?”

“Its fourth of July, bitches,” Ronan answered, impersonating Blue. He was very aware that he was lying half-naked in bed, sheet around his waist and Adam's eyes on him. The room was thick with sudden tension. “Is that alright, asshole?” He shifted up and threw his legs off the bed. 

Adam followed the movement with tense eyes. “I mean it's not the worst idea you've had.”

Ronan smirked, “Yeah, Parrish? And what would that be?” 

“Letting your guard down.” He stepped into the room, water gun raised. “That was your worst mistake, Lynch.” 

Before he could even react, cold water hit Ronan in the chest and face. “Argh, Parrish, you fuck.”

Chainsaw squawked in her cage. 

Adam laughed and ran from the room. “See ya for breakfast, Lynch.”

Ronan laughed and flopped down into his now wet bed. “I am so fucked,” he muttered, Adam's laugh still echoing in his ears. 

Chainsaw cawed in agreement. 

The day was a haze of heat. Black clouds sat on the horizon threatening a thunderstorm. The air cackled with static electricity. Humidity was a heavy coat, pulling too tight as the sun blazed down. Ronan almost wanted it to rain, to break the tension weighing on them. It would take hours for the storm to reach them so he set up the yard for the BBQ, hanging the sign that now read, _it's a fucking fourth of July party_. The words were squeezed underneath the original words, barely fitting. The other declarations were scratched out. He filled the paddling pool, and laid out the games, filled up some water balloons and water guns. He hadn't taken the twinkly lights down from last time so he just switched them on even though they couldn't be seen in the glaring sun. 

He'd already restocked the kitchen for the BBQ during the week, and made a bunch of desserts, so he turned on the grill to give it time to heat up, and dipped his feet in the paddling pool. Adam sat on a folding chair on the other side of the small pool, feet in the water, beer in one hand and book in the other. Ronan grinned at him and checked the skies for Chainsaw. He kept expecting her to leave, to find a family or the sky or anywhere but here, and yet she kept coming back. 

The roar of the pig filled the quiet.

“Finally,” Ronan grinned. “Let’s get this party started.” Adam grinned back at him.

“I declare the most epic water fight of 20gayteen to be…” Blue pounded on the picnic table after they’d all eaten. “...officially started. Let’s do this.” She stood on the table and sprayed water on the waiting men. “So it begins.” 

They all ran in opposite directions inside the designated zone that Blue had laid out; set between the house, the closest barn that touched the yard and the boundary fence of the fields. Each were loaded with twenty water balloons and a super soaker. They had no idea how they were going to be decide the winner. Only that it was going to a brutal match. Ronan found high ground quickly, climbing on top of the barn and watching the others duke it out. Blue and Gansey were doing more flirting than fighting. He couldn’t see Adam. 

It was only when he heard the creak behind him he realised his mistake. 

“Should have been watching your six, man,” Adam muttered before soaking him with everything his super soaker had. 

Ronan covered his eyes and tried to grab his gun but the pressure of the water was too much, “I fucking yield, Parrish. I fucking yield.”

“Ha,” Adam shouted and laughed. The noise was pure joy and adrenaline. Ronan would burn worlds to hear it again. “You’re on my team now,” Adam whispered. “Let's show flirty-mac-won’t-stop and stare-y-mac-gooey-eyes how its done.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Ronan muttered around a sharp grin as they slunk back down the barn and crept closer to Blue and Gansey. They were still fighting each other. “Now?”

“Now,” Adam smirked before jumping forward and pummelling them with water balloons. 

Ronan backed him up with the super soaker. Blue and Gansey screamed trying to fight back but it was too late; they’d wasted most of their ammo on each other. When they finally yielded, Ronan held up Adam’s hand. “I declare Adam Parrish the overall champion of the most epic water fight of 20gayteen.”

Blue and Gansey cheered and clapped and bowed. 

Adam blushed the most flattering colour. He looked at Ronan. Ronan was already looking back. 

The sound of an engine destroyed the moment, dragging Ronan’s eyes up his driveway. 

Kavinsky’s mitsubishi skidded to a stop, bass echoing across the now silent yard. The car door was flung open and he fell out landing with an _oof_ on his elbow. Pulling himself up, falling into the car and then just leaning on it, his dark eyes searched for Ronan’s. 

“Ronan, my man,” he slurred. 

“Not your man, K.” Ronan walked towards him, watching as he swayed. “You alright? Enjoying the festivities a little too much?”

“Ronan. Ronan. Ronan Motherfucking Lynch.” Kavinsky took a step forward and tripped into Ronan’s arms. “I’m falling for ya, man,” he muttered and then laughed an obnoxious sound. “You’re a fucking bastard, you know that?”

Ronan glanced down at him, caught the vulnerable expression on K’s face for just a second before he pushed him off. Kavinsky stumbled before he caught his balance. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Ronan sneered, forcing the stress out of his voice.

“We used to always spent fourth of July together in case you forgot and I figured a loser like you would be by yourself.” The bloodshot eyes traced the scene around him, flicking from Gansey and Blue and landing on Adam. Ronan stepped in front of Adam to block his view. “Gone soft, Lynch? Or were you always soft?” He glanced down at Ronan’s crotch and back to his face with a dirty smile on it. “Hey, I have an idea. Let’s race.”

“Nah, I’m good. Why don’t you come sit for us for a bit? Eat some food? Sober up?” Anger burned like kindling beneath Ronan’s skin but he couldn’t allow K to drive like this; he was a danger to himself and everyone else on the road. “What'd you take, K?”

“I took the blue pill and the red pill and the one to make me tall and the one to make me small.” He twisted in a circle as lightning flashed across the sky. The storm finally broke in an explosion of light and noise. The rain fell with sudden intensity that soaked the remaining dry parts of Ronan. “Look at that Lynch. I made it rain.”

“Kavinsky, come sit with us.” Gansey’s voice was quiet but powerful. It wasn’t a request but an order. 

K’s shoulders tensed. “I’m not your dog, Gansey. You can’t train me.”

“Ronan?” Adam asked quietly, looking at him with a question in his eyes. 

Ronan shrugged, not knowing what to do. All he knew was he couldn’t let K drive again. He didn’t like the empty space in his eyes that used to be filled with fire. “C’mon K. C’mon, man. Have a beer with us. We were gonna have a fire but with this-” He held his arms out and let the heavy drops bounce off his pale skin. It was the first real rain Roman had felt in a year. He wanted to dance and scream and be home. Instead, he watched K closely and took a step forward. “Joseph, stay here,” he whispered the words so no one but K could hear them. 

“Don’t call me that. My fucking father called me that.” Kavinsky screamed, sudden fury on his face. He shook his head, drops falling from it and mixing with the rain. He examined Ronan. “It was never going to be me and you, not after you left.”

Ronan shook his head. “It was never going to be us. Not ever."

“Fuck you, man. Fuck you.” 

Ronan didn’t even see the punch coming. 

By the time he hit the ground and got back up, K was gone. He grabbed the keys Adam was already holding. “Which way did he go?”

“Left,” Adam responded, following him to the car. “Blue has already called the police.”

Ronan glanced over at his friend, “Gansey stay with Blue in case he comes back.” 

Gansey nodded, looking like he wanted to say something. His mouth formed the words, shaped them into something important, and then, he just nodded again.

Adam was already in the car. “Okay. Let go try save the asshole.”

“You don’t have to come.” 

Adam stared at him, cool and unamused.

“Alright then.”

He tore out of the drive, mud and rain exploding in his wake. The rain was still lashing down and the rental car’s window wipers were struggling to keep up. His cheek hurt from the punch and his head was pounding. He took the roads too fast, waves of water splashing in their wake. He headed to the abandoned factory, the only place he thought K would go. 

They found the wreck of the car about halfway there. Ronan braked so suddenly Adam's hands slammed on the dashboard. The car lit up the night sky like a bonfire, burning metal and leather and something Ronan refused to identify drenching the wet air. For a minute, he was back in the desert watching the night sky light up after an IED went off. He was surrounded by gun shots and men shouting orders and burning skin from getting too close. Smoke leeched off the car from the falling rain but it wasn’t enough to put the fire out. Dragging himself back from the flashback felt like physical exercise. It left him panting and sweating. 

He twisted the steering wheel and crashed into the ditch. “Jesus Mary, K,” Ronan screamed, breathless, running towards the wreck. Adam grabbed him before he was halfway there. “Adam, what the fuck?”

The car exploded, throwing them both back. 

“Petrol.” Adam mouthed or said. Ronan couldn’t hear him over the ringing in his ears. “He’s gone, man. He’s gone.” All he could hear was the pounding of his heart and the fear screaming through his brain. 

He slumped against the rental car, staring at the burning wreck. There was a black chasm in his chest ripping him apart and threatening to swallow him whole. Kavinsky was a bastard, an abusive fuck who'd nearly killed Ronan a few weeks before, but he was also someone important to Ronan in the worst possible way. He was still Ronan’s age and he had never had a fucking chance. He had never had a Declan or a Gansey or a Noah. 

Adam got off the phone and leaned beside Ronan on the car. The length of his body was pressed into Ronan’s side and he leaned into the touch. Adam took Ronan’s hand and linked their fingers together. “He’s gone, man. I’m sorry.”

The rain slowed and then stopped. Smoke and fire reached into the night in a rage Ronan knew K was fueling. Somewhere in the distance, fireworks exploded and lit up the night sky in a rainbow of colour. 

Ronan gripped Adam’s hand and blinked bitter tears from his eyes. “He always wanted to die on July fourth. He always wanted it to end this way.” He brought his bands to his mouth and chewed them. “See ya, K. I hope it stops fucking hurting now.”

They stayed watching the car burn until the police arrived.


	38. The glass is already broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this up! It's all angst but with fluff at the end! Also slight mention of war type violence in the middle. Also the very scientific source I used to explain Noah is [here](https://science.slashdot.org/story/08/12/03/023209/visual-hallucinations-are-a-normal-grief-reaction). There's actually quite a few studies done, and yes okay, I may have used artistic licence to stretch out Noah's character a bit, it's still pretty cool. 
> 
> Thank you for all the messages and love! You guys are so totally awesome. 
> 
> Also I have a tumblr? and I just kept forgetting to tell you? It's [here](http://daisyapples.tumblr.com/) just in case you want to follow me or say hello or reblog the fic or all three <3

It hadn't stopped raining since Kavinsky had died.

Ronan would have found it funny if he wasn't trying so hard to figure out how to mourn his almost friend who also happened to be the same man who'd tried to murder him. He couldn't reconcile the bastard that K was with the few good memories he had of him. He hated K and he was drawn to him and sometimes he loved him and sometimes he just thought of him as the easiest way to self-destruct. All he knew was he'd lost something; a crutch, a friend, an enemy, an easy escape when everything got too real. All he knew was he was so glad K was gone and he wished so hard he would see the mitsubishi in his rearview mirror one more time. He sat awake at night, letting all the emotion boil over until he thought he was going to lose it. It was Calla who suggested he go to the funeral as a way to gain closure.

Ronan fucking hated funerals.

But he was here.

It was a quiet Tuesday morning two weeks after the accident and he was sitting at the back of St. Agnes, dressed in his darkest suit, watching the pathetic turnout with harsh eyes. The rain echoed off the roof of the church, a hollow noise broken only by the tears of K’s mom. His dad sat straight-backed, beside his wife, but away. Ronan wasn't even sure they were still married. Either way, they both looked like shitheads. Too many fur coats and heavy watches. It didn't shock him they'd raised a man like Joseph Kavinsky. Some of K's crew sat about halfway down the aisles. They hadn't bothered with suits; were in jeans and blacks vests with thick gold chains around their necks and wrists. The disrespect bothered Ronan like an itch he couldn't scratch. He wore a suit for a Sunday service. Let alone for a funeral. It didn't help they were slouched in the pews, looking bored as they waited for the afterparty to begin. Ronan had heard K's real final send off wasn't happening until tonight. Too much booze and drugs and fireworks were waiting in the old factory; all shipped in to celebrate the life of the man who was king of them all. He wasn't going despite the invitation being thrown his way the week before. After today, K was not someone he was planning on thinking about again. _Closure_ , Calla had called it. Ronan was calling it _fucking freedom_ , and if he had to put the nails in the damn coffin of his and K's friendship to prove it to himself, he fucking would. Kavinsky already had the last word. He'd died and left Ronan here to deal with the consequences. As always.

He still hated that there was barely anyone. Less than ten people in the whole church. K had been so _big_. He deserved more, or less. Ronan still couldn't figure out which side of the equation he'd landed on, still couldn't figure out if K was a friend or an enemy. He was kneeling at the back of the church, last pew, hidden by shadows. He could _just_ see the coffin. The black wood glinted in the candlelight. Ronan squeezed his hands into tight fists. 

All of this was so fucking worthless. It was such a waste of fucking time. K didn't have to die. Noah didn't have to die. The rest of his unit didn't have to die. His parents didn't have to die. He blinked frustrated tears back and unclenched his fingers. The priest's voice droned through the church. Ronan responded where he needed, never leaving his kneeling position. 

He left before anyone even knew he was there.

He didn't attend the burial. 

Calla was waiting for him on the porch when he pulled up for his session. He didn't bother rushing through the rain, just strolled over letting cool droplets dribble down his neck. Calla watched with sharp eyes. He knew she was taking in his wrecked face and the slump of his shoulders and the heavy way his feet fell. 

“That bad?” 

Ronan stopped walking a few feet from her seat on the porch, letting the rain soak through the material of his suit and dragged in a shaking breath. “I saw Noah when I first got back. Like he was… He was here, Calla. For fucking months and I didn't tell anyone because fuck…” He stopped talking and looked up at the dark sky. Rain wetted his cheeks and washed away his tears. “Jesus Mary. Fuck. I… I don't know what I'm doing anymore.” The silence that followed his statement was broken by the harsh noise of rain hitting his car. He couldn't look at her, so he examined the ground, shivering as drops of water chased each other down his back. 

"You're going to catch your death standing there."

He left the rain and sat beside her. She was a warm, comforting presence, and he suddenly, and viciously, missed his mom.

“Are you still seeing him?”

Ronan shook his head. He still wouldn't look at her, afraid of what he would see in her face. “After the accident, I… I told him goodbye. I had to do it myself, you know? I had to live without him. I couldn't… I couldn't keep hiding.” 

Calla took his hand but didn't say anything. 

Ronan recognised she was giving him the floor but he wasn't sure if he wanted it. He was so tired. He counted to fifty and forced the words out. “He wasn't… It wasn't bad. He helped me get my shit back together.” He rubbed a shaking hand down his face. “He got me out of my combats when I first arrived home, got me to tell Gansey that I was back, and he got me here. Shit, Calla. I fucking miss him.” He was sobbing now, great gulping wails that ripped up his chest and tore along his throat. He rolled forward, dropping her hand and leaning into his knees, letting the pain drown him. “I fucking can't, Calla. I just fucking can't…”

She rubbed his back in soothing circles until he cried himself out. When he finally lifted his head, she was looking out onto the street. There was no one about because of the rain. The houses were grey and wet looking like sad, old men. The sky was heavy and low, bloated with the summer storm. It was cold but the air still tasted like summer heat and too many flowers. The paths had become small rivers and the grass was swimming with oversized puddles. Already the brown tips were greening. 

“Am I… Is there something wrong with me?”

Calla sighed and examined him. “There's been a lot of studies done on hallucinations and grief. People have seen their dead partners, relatives. It's not as uncommon as you'd think.” She smiled something small at him. “Have you seen him since you said goodbye?”

Ronan shook his head, too scared to talk. 

“We don't really understand how our brains work. It's a complex organ designed to keep us alive." She shrugged. "It reacts differently when exposed to trauma or grief. What you went through, it was a bit of everything. It seems to me your brain coped by creating a way to survive. It gave you back the person who'd shown you how to find the light again and again.” Calla took his hand again, warm fingers grounding him. “Ronan, I'm not saying it's the best thing your brain could have done, and it definitely shows we've a lot more work to do, but there's nothing wrong with you that can't be fixed. You survived. Remember that. You survived.” 

“What do I do now?”

The answer came quickly, “You keep surviving.”

Ronan stared out at the empty street, rain pelting down so hard it was bouncing off the concrete. “It was a Tuesday," he said, and if the randomness of the sentence confused her, Calla didn't say anything. "The day I was shot. It was a tuesday which is such a shitty day anyway. Like what is even the point of fucking Tuesday.” He took a shuddering breath. “It was meant to be a simple recon mission, check the village was as empty as the satellites were telling us it was. Dunno how they got past the thermal imaging, but they did, and they had us surrounded.” He let go of Calla's hand and dug his nails into his thighs to ground himself. The smell of blood and sand and gunpowder was overwhelming. “We never stood a chance. The only reason I’m alive is Noah. He called me and I turned to his voice. Bullet went through my shoulder. Fucking miracle," he scoffed. "Like I deserved one of them." He was starting to shiver, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the cold, or because of the story. "So I’m down, and we’re surrounded, and everyone is dying. Fuck, everyone was fucking falling to these snipers who have us totally covered. Noah is calling for backup and dragging me along, telling me to put pressure on my wound, and suddenly, he drops me. They got him in the neck. God, Calla, there was so much fucking blood and I’m trying to stop the bleeding and he’s gasping and trying to tell me to put pressure on my shoulder…” He was crying again but softer now; a gentle stream he thought might never stop. “He was dying and he was still trying to keep me safe. Like fuck. And then, he was just gone. I never got a chance to tell him how much I…” He felt like his heart was breaking all over again, a violent tearing like when Chainsaw got hold of paper. “I loved him so much Calla. Not just as a boyfriend but as a friend. He always reminded me to breath, reminded me it was okay. And I’ve to do it by myself now and I don’t know if I can.”

“Ronan, you’re not alone. You have a whole family behind you.”

“I know, I just… Fuck. It was all so fucking pointless. Him. K. Mom and dad. It was all for nothing. The fuck am I meant to do without them? The fuck am I meant to survive?” He turned to examine her, expression begging. “Please Calla, please. How do I survive?”

Calla sighed, sounding suddenly exhausted. “Do you remember a few months back when we were sitting under the tree and I told you this was going to be the hardest thing you’d ever do?”

Ronan nodded, tears sliding lazily down his face.

“Well, this is the hard part. You know something most people don’t want to face, Ronan. You know that death is our shadow. Always that close and always that present. Knowing, it’s not easy to then go and live, allowing people in when you know at any minute they might leave you permanently. It’s a horrifying, suffocating knowledge.” Calla sighed and looked at him. “But you can use it as a gift instead of a weight. You can use it to appreciate being alive more. Achaan Chaa says, for me this glass is already broken.”

“I don’t get it.”

“He understands that things are going to break, and in his example, it's a goblet. He accepts the glass is already broken so every moment with it is precious, and when it breaks, as glasses have a tendency to do, he can say _of course_ , and just appreciates the time he had with it-" Calla paused as a gust of wind brought a stream of rain in on them. She wiped her face before continuing "-for you, it's people. They're going to die, Ronan. You know that better than anyone, but knowing that means, while you have them in your life, you can choose to appreciate them more." 

Ronan smirked, "Man, that is really fucking depressing."

Calla shook her head, "You know the goblet is already broken, Ronan, but with that knowledge do you get rid of the goblet before it actually breaks, or do you appreciate all the time you have with it? People have died on you, so many people, and more will, that's just life, but knowing that, do you push them away, or do you pull people closer, love them fiercer, hold them tighter, and live a life your parents and Noah could be proud of?” The buzzing of his phone interrupted the moment. “You should get that,” Calla muttered, getting to her feet and rubbing drops of water out of her purple hair. “We’re done for today.”

“Already?”

“What you told me, it’s a really big deal, and I’m proud of you, but emotionally you’ve been through the ringer and it’s only half twelve.” Calla patted his head. “Ronan, answer the phone. Go be with family.”

“Do I need to tell them?”

“Not until you’re ready. We’ll do some work first. Get you feeling a little more steady.”

He looked down at his phone in his hand. Declan’s name was dancing across the screen. “Are you sure I’m not…” The words dried in his throat before he could say them. He swallowed and tried again. “Are you sure I’m not broken?”

Calla crouched down and took his chin gently in her hand. “Ronan, you have come leaps and bounds in the last few months. This is a massive step forward. You told me the truth. You let him go. Me and you, we’ll figure out the rest, okay?”

Ronan nodded and stood. 

“You’re not broken, Ronan. Just a little dented, a little cracked up. We’ll fix you right up.”

“Thank’s Calla. I better…” He held his phone up and then answered it. “Hey man, sorry I was in a session. What’s up?”

“Wanna come meet your niece?”

Ronan choked, and laughed, fresh tears filling his eyes. “She’s here?”

“Arrived twenty minutes ago. I knew you had the funeral today so I wanted to wait and tell you after.”

“Fuck, Declan. You’re a dad.”

A huff of laughter came down the phone. “Jesus Mary, I know. You’ll come?”

“I’m already heading to the car. Send me the hospital address and I’ll be there as quick as my piece of shit rental car will carry me.”

“I’ll text you it. Fuck Ronan, you should see her. We’re all screwed.” He laughed a carefree noise that made Ronan tear up again. “She’s gonna run rings around us.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, unlocking the car. “Send me the address.”

Calla waved at him from the porch when he looked back. “It’s a good day, Ronan. You can be proud of yourself and your family. Go enjoy it.”

He laughed and looked up at the sky. The rain had stopped and the sun was fighting it’s way out from behind the clouds. Ronan felt like for the first time in months, he could breathe again. 

Hours later, Ronan stared down on the tiny face squeezing out of soft pink blankets. “Jesus, Dec. She’s a fucking miracle.” He blinked away tears and examined her tiny nose and closed eyes, her little head tucked into a white hospital hat and the one hand poking free. “She has tiny fucking nails. Jesus Mary.”

“Do you wanna know what we called her?” Dec asked quietly over Ais’s sleeping form. 

Ronan nodded, unable to look away from the sleeping baby. She’d fallen asleep in his arms and Ronan knew that was it; Dec was right. He would give this kid anything. She already owned his heart. 

“Opal Aurora Lynch.”

“That is a montherfucking superhero name if ever I heard one.”

“Language,” Ais mumbled, still half asleep.

Ronan stifled a laugh. “Holy crap, man. I love her so much. How is this possible?”

“I think I love her more,” Matthew argued, standing so close to Ronan he kept banging off his arm every time he jiggled in excitement.

“Pretty sure I love her the most,” Declan said with a grin. 

Ronan scoffed. “Well I’m at least the favourite uncle.”

“Bullshit,” Matthew whispered. “I’m going to get food. It’s hours since I ate. You know, since I, as the favourite uncle, was here all night for the whole birth.” Matthew opened the door and stuck his tongue out at Ronan.

Holding his niece as carefully as he could, he flashed Matthew his middle finger. He sat down on the small sofa next to Declan when the door closed, the room still echoed with Matthew's happy laughter. “You did good, Dec." He grinned down at Opal. "You always did good... For all of us. Thanks.”

Declan looked at him, shock making his eyes wide. “Thanks, Ronan. Thank you." He fussed with the blanket for a minute before examining him. "You doing okay, man? With the funeral and all?”

“Do you know what, Dec? The glass is already broken." He grinned, jaw aching from how much he'd smiled since he'd met his niece. "And I’ve decided this is a really fucking good day.”

“I’ve no idea what that means, but you look, I dunno, lighter or something, so I'll assume it means good things.”

“I just, I think, maybe, it’s gonna be better now. I think… I just... I feel a bit better... Like I’m on the right path, you know?” Opal squirmed in his arms and he looked down, panicked. She shifted for another minute, getting more comfortable, and went back to sleep. 

Declan watched him tense up to make sure he didn't upset her again. He grinned and said in a soft voice, “You can breathe now, Ronan.” 

“Yeah, I think I finally can,” he agreed, staring down at the newest member of his family and letting something like hope bloom in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that got super fluff-like a the end, but like, look at Ronan facing his demons <3 I couldn't help the fluff and cheese, okay? I just couldn't.


	39. Tell the story of who you are with your whole heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is a lot of angst and then fluff fluff fluff at the end. These poor soft boys have been through the ringer! 
> 
> TW: Canon-level discussion of abuse. Really it's just mentioned, no memories or anything!
> 
> Thank you as always for anyone who has read this and commented and kudos and etc etc etc... I think you are all wonderful!

Adam flopped down on Persephone’s bed and let his head bounce against the pillow. He'd landed on his stomach, right hand digging into his ribs and left hand swinging down, fingers grazing the rough carpet covering her floor. “I did something really stupid and I need some advice,” he mumbled. The familiar horror that had started clawing at him after he had moved back to St. Agnes a week ago tiptoed up his neck. 

“Well, you can tell me what it is and I can do my best,” she said, voice soft. She kept knitting and for a few minutes the only sound was the click of her needles. 

Adam rolled onto his side, half his face smushed into the pillow. It smelled like the thick scent of herbs and cheap detergent. He talked around the soft material trying to climb into his mouth. “I fixed Ronan’s BMW.” He then groaned into the bed, shame and embarrassment making a dark flush heat up his neck.

“I don't understand what the problem is,” she replied gently.

“He doesn’t know I fixed it.” The creeping realisation that he may have overestimated what his and Ronan's relationship was had begun the first night back in his cold, dark apartment. “He doesn’t know I fixed it,” he repeated, closing his eyes and hoping she would understand it this time. He was so _weird_. Why had he thought this was a good idea and not just a total overstepping of the clear lines they'd laid down? Lines he'd insisted on. 

“I'm still unsure why this is a problem. You did a nice thing?" The click of needles continued, oddly comforting. "Although I've seen that boy drive and it may've been kinder to the sheriff to leave him without wheels for a little while longer.”

Adam could hear the smile on her face but he refused to open his eyes to look at her. “Persephone, think about it. What is he going to say when I turn up with his car fixed?”

“Thank you?”

“You’re not getting it.”

She poked his leg with the sharp end of the needle. “Adam, sit up and explain it to me please. I can’t help if you don’t use your words.”

Sighing, Adam pushed himself up. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs and looked at her. “I fixed his car. I fixed his _dad’s_ car. Without anyone knowing. I paid to get it out of the impound and had to pull a few strings using Boyd’s name to even do that. Ronan thinks it was destroyed in the crash, everyone does-” he paused, examining her pale face and realised she wasn’t getting it. “Persephone, he’s going to know.”

“Know what, Adam?”

“Oh, don’t pull the innocent voice with me. You know what I mean.”

She just shrugged.

“He’s going to know that I care about him, that I… You know…”

“Saying it isn’t the end of the world, Adam." She put the needles down and finally gave him her full attention; worrying because it meant he was about to get lectured, or worse, have to hear something uncomfortable about himself. "Admitting it might be good for you.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

Adam huffed out a breath and looked down at his grease covered fingers. “I mean, like for one thing, it’s Ronan. He’s one of the best people I’ve ever met. He is so completely himself in all situations. He has no fear. He just…” He shook his head. “And like, I’m me. I’m just… me,” he whispered the world out, defeated. “What could I even offer him?”

Persephone hummed. “You’re scared he won’t want you.”

“I _know_ he won’t.”

“Why?”

“Come on, Persephone. I’m just…” He looked up, but her expression _hurt_. There was too much patience and love in her soft smile and kind eyes so he glanced back at his hands. There was black dirt under his fingernails. “I’m just a kid from a trailer park who’s couldn’t get his dad to love him and couldn’t get his mom to save him. I’m not anything, not really.” He dug his nails into the hard bone of his knees. “Ronan has a family who adores him and friends who care. He went to war. He's brave and smart and kind. I’m not enough. I’m not worth him.” The tears that fell came from a deep place that he rarely examined; a place that told him if he opened up to anyone, _really opened up_ , he would be rejected. No one could love something as broken as him. “I just, Persephone, I think I love him.” Even saying the words, broken and wretched as they passed his chapped lips, made his heart break. Ronan could never really want him back.

“Did you know-” Persephone said, hunching in front of him and gently peeling his nails from his skin. “-there is only one _tiny_ thing that separates people who have love and belonging and those who don’t? One tiny thing. Do you know what it is, Adam?”

He shook his head, tears falling like rain onto their joined hands. 

“The people who have a strong sense of love and belonging _believe_ they deserve it. That's it. They believe they are worthy.” 

He glanced up at her searching eyes and away again. “They just believe it?” He asked in a small voice.

“They do. They are willing to have courage, and tell their story, imperfections and all. They accepted their imperfection as part of who they are. They are kind to themselves. They are vulnerable with others, knowing they are worthy." She gave his hands a small squeeze. "Giving Ronan the car, it makes you feel vulnerable?”

He took a shuddering breath and nodded. 

“Your father taught you too much about shame, Adam. He taught you that if you connect, really connect, with a person, they will deem you unworthy. You deserve to form real connections but you have to be kind to yourself first. You have to know that you are worthy of love, of belonging.” She sat up beside him on the bed, sighing as her knees cracked. “Oh, I am getting old."

He gave her a small grin.

"Vulnerability, like giving Ronan such a thoughtful present, it is the only way to allow real connection to happen. Letting down all those walls you have built and allowing yourself to feel _worthy_ , it's all there is, Adam. That is it. You are worthy.”

“I am worthy?”

“Next time it would be better if you said it with some conviction.”

He smiled, watery and weak. “I am worthy.”

Persephone smiled. “You've spent a very long time running from the feelings your father graced you with, but numbing yourself to those feelings has left you numb to the other ones, the good ones. Vulnerability, it is so difficult, but so worth it. It is difficult to love with all your heart, difficult to allow yourself to _feel_ , but it is necessary, and you learn, even in the moments that are shrouded in pain and hurt, to be grateful because to feel so strongly means you are alive. You are still alive. You survived.” 

Adam wiped a shaking hand down his wet face. 

“You are enough, Adam. Even with all the hurt and pain, even with the PTSD and the failures, even with your awful father and estranged mother, even with the fear and the hopelessness, you are enough, with the joy and the love, and the passion, and your brain and your heart. You are enough.” Persephone hugged his shaking form to her, wrapping thin arms around his shoulders. “It is time for a new list. I am worthy. I am enough. Say it.”

“Just that?”

“Just that.”

“I am worthy. I am enough.”

“Again.”

“I am worthy. I am enough.”

“I want you to say that to yourself anytime you begin to feel the creeping sense of shame or guilt or the need to be perfect. I want you to repeat it a hundred times a day if you have to. Because Adam, it’s time to stop surviving and start living.”

“Embrace vulnerability?” He asked with a smirk.

“Revel in it,” she answered with a smile. “Dance in it. Be courageous. Because…”

“I am worthy. I am enough.”

“Exactly, my dear boy. Exactly.”

Even with Persephone’s words echoing in his head, Adam felt like puking as he drove the BMW up the driveway of The Barns. It was already half nine and he wasn’t even sure if Ronan was home. He thought about maybe just parking the car and running. Except he really didn’t feel like walking the miles back home. He’d just switched off the engine when the front door sprang open. A black shadow that could only be Chainsaw cawed and disappeared into the darkening night. It was followed by a flurry of shouts and curses. When Ronan looked up, arms flapping away the feathers Chainsaw had left in her wake, his eyes widened. The BMW was glistening in the setting sun, charcoal alive with the glow of pinks and reds. Adam, hands still shaking and heart feeling like it might explode, opened the door and stepped out with a small wave. 

Ronan took a step forward and audibly swallowed. “What the fuck is this, man?”

“A present?” Adam's voice was so small, he had to say it a second time. “A present.”

Ronan walked over slowly, not taking his eyes off the car. He was barefoot, wearing dark shorts and a ripped black vest. Dust crawled up his toes, catching on his leg hairs. Adam could see his ribs through the low-cut arms and the sight made heat climb up his neck. He watched Ronan touch the car almost reverently, mouth hanging open. His eyes glistened in the dying light. “It’s my dad’s car? You fixed it?” He sounded weak, almost whispering the words. 

Adam shrugged, and looked away from the knot between Ronan’s eyebrows, wanting so desperately to smooth it out. “It means a lot to you. I’m sorry if it’s too much…”

“Why the fuck are you apologising?” Ronan interrupted, and grabbed Adam into a hug so tight, it knocked the breath from him. “Jesus Mary. This is the nicest thing… No, this is… Adam, I can’t even fucking…” He tightened the hug, lacing his arms around Adam’s shoulders and burying his head into soft skin at his neck. “Thank you.”

Adam forced back a shiver as Ronan’s lips caressed his skin. He wrapped gentle arms around Ronan’s waist which caused the other man to pull him even tighter. “I just…” He swallowed. “I care about you a lot and I wanted to do something... It means a lot to you,” he repeated, pressed into Ronan’s shoulder.

“You mean a lot to me, Adam.”

The way Ronan said his name made goosebumps dance across his body. 

“I can’t believe you did this.” He pulled back from the hug to examine the BMW again. “How much to I owe you?”

“Fuck off, Lynch. It’s a present.”

Ronan glanced at him then and Adam felt like his stomach dropped out of his body. The look Ronan was giving him was warm sunshine and being accepted to college and having his own apartment and graduation and full scholarships and the first time Gansey called him a friend and a hug from Blue and it was… It was love. Ronan loved him. Adam swallowed on a suddenly dry throat. “Do you want to go for a drive? See if it feels the same? I can make adjustments to the engine if it doesn’t.” He had to shout the last words as Ronan jogged to the house, whistling for Chainsaw and huffing out a laugh. 

"Fuck yes I do," he shouted, catching his raven on an outstretched arm. "Just give me a second to lock her up and put on shoes. Holy motherfucking Jesus." He shot Adam a sly grin, spiked with warmth and a promise there'd be trouble tonight. "Fuck," he muttered, almost to himself as he went back inside. 

Adam length against the car, knees weak. “I am worthy. I am enough,” he whispered. The sun was setting, scattering dark shadows across the yard and allowing a cool breeze steal the last of its heat. “I am worthy. I am enough.” He shook out his hands, and watched as Ronan walked back to the car, face a soft impression of his usual scowl. 

Ronan stopped in front of him and rested a warm hand on his shoulder. “Words are not my fucking thing, Adam. I fucking hate that shit, but this is easily the best thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.”

Adam shrugged, voice lost in the sincerity in Ronan’s voice. 

They stared at each other for a long, quiet moment. Ronan’s eyes dropped to Adam’s lips and back to his eyes, but instead of closing the space like Adam desperately wanted him to, he squeezed his shoulder once and pulled open the driver seat door. “Let’s go for a fucking ride, man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the thing, being vulnerable is not easy, and doing something for a person and not knowing if they want you to do that for them, it's really hard, and I didn't want to play that down. It is okay to be scared when reaching out to someone and putting yourself on the line in any way; friendship, romantic, family, workwise. It is terrifying to be vulnerable with another human person. No way Adam would do it without some sort of pep talk first. Also all the vulnerability talk came from this Ted talk (I've also added the second one because it's the follow up and it's amazing):
> 
>  
> 
> [here](https://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability)
> 
>  
> 
> [here](https://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_listening_to_shame)


	40. All the King's soldiers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, so sorry this update took so long! Also it's almost all angst, but we're getting there! Only four more chapters left! 
> 
> Mwah mwah mwah for all the love <3

Ronan dreamt.

He dreamt of blood. 

He dreamt of grinning teeth and a white mitsubishi. 

He dreamt of burning flesh and the sizzling of a BBQ. 

He dreamt of fireworks and flames. 

The dream world tilted and Adam was waiting for him in a field of blue flowers and warm sunshine. He held his hands out, knuckles protruding from slim fingers, beckoning to Ronan. 

Ronan took a step. 

The field was a desert, slick with blood. Adam was gone. Noah watched him instead. He shimmered in the heat. One minute covered in blood. One minute whole again. He waved him forward with open palms, grinning. Red. White. Bloody. Clean. Noah laughed and his face settled into a smile, crimson and leaking. 

Ronan took a step. 

Sand turned to flames beneath his feet. It felt the kiss of heat on bare skin. He licked dry lips. K was in front of him, reaching for him. Always reaching for Ronan. Even now. K was pale, skeleton white and bone thin. The smile he threw at Ronan was cruel. It wanted to damage and tear and bite. It wanted to taste blood. Kavinsky licked his lips. Long arms reached for Ronan. Slim fingers wrapped around his throat. Tightening and violent, Ronan couldn't breathe. 

K laughed. 

Ronan woke with a punch, sure K was still above him. Flinging himself through the darkness, he kept fighting; legs arguing with sheets and fists flying through empty air. 

He couldn't breathe. 

He couldn't breathe. 

He couldn't breathe. 

It took too long for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Took too long for him to realise there was no one else in his room. He wasn't in danger. No one was coming for him.

He still couldn't breathe. 

The only noise was _gasping gasping gasping_ as he fought with his lungs. 

He. Couldn't. Breathe. 

Rolling off the bed, he landed with a hard thump on the wooden floor. The shock jerked him back to alertness; back into his body, shaking his brain back to reality. Dragging in a gasping breath and letting the dizziness recede, he pushed himself up on shaking arms. They buckled under him. He collapsed back down, landing with a huff. He lay on the ground, letting lazy tears cool his sweating face and wincing at the pain spreading across his body. Each breath sent a spasm across his ribs. His shoulder throbbed. He’d banged his bad knee when he fell. There was an ache forming between his eyebrows and spreading back across the length of his skull.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Fucking fuck.”

He didn’t bother going back to sleep. When the trembling subsided, he went downstairs and swallowed some painkillers with a gulp of cold beer. The night air was warm when he sat on the porch. Animals crawled in the underbrush and insect chirps echoed through the quiet. The moon was almost full, illuminating everything in a cool, white glow. He fiddled with his phone, tossing it from hand to hand, before he finally pressed call on Gansey’s number. 

It only rang twice before Gansey answered, too alert for four am. “Ronan, hey. You okay?”

“I had a nightmare,” he muttered, embarrassed at how small his voice sounded. He heard Gansey’s bed creak, and then the closing of a door.

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Nah, man. I just needed… I just needed to talk to someone.”

“Well, I’m always here.” He could hear Monmouth in the background; the groan of the stairs and the huff of the door. Gansey took a deep breath and Ronan knew he'd gone outside.

“Were you sleeping?”

“I was working. Blue is over. She was asleep so I'm outside now. I’m sitting on the pig. It's nice tonight,” he said in the most Gansey way possible. Only he could find time to complement the weather like they were having a normal conversation. “I like when it’s this quiet.”

“Yeah.” Ronan sighed. 

“Do you want to talk about the nightmare?”

“Not really. Bad enough having to live through it once.”

Gansey hummed his agreement. “Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”

Ronan could suddenly feel the pulse in his wrist. “Sure.”

“What’s going on with you and Adam?”

“Who the fuck knows, man? Who the fuck knows?”

“You do,” Gansey said in a quiet voice. 

Sometimes Ronan forgot how well they knew each other, how easy it was to read the meaning behind their words. Ronan didn’t lie but that didn’t mean he told the truth either. Sometimes he used words as weapons to bury what he really meant under layers of half-truths and hidden meanings and sarcasm. He bit his lip, allowing his teeth to sink in until his skin stung, and then sighed again. “I love him." The words fell from his mouth as easy as the day followed the night. "I just don’t know for sure how he feel about me.”

Gansey hummed again. “Can I ask another question?”

“Sure, why the fuck not?” Ronan muttered, just grateful Gansey hadn’t pushed him for more information. 

“Why didn’t you let me see you in the hospital after you were shot?”

Ronan choked on his beer. That was not where he thought this conversation was going, but the hurt and pain in Gansey’s voice told him he had to answer. “I didn’t want you to find out yet.”

“Find out what?”

“I knew if you saw me, you’d think I was still there. I was still me.” He picked at the label of his empty bottle, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear. “You’d be grateful I was alive…”

“Of course I would be,” Gansey interrupted.

“You don’t get it, Dick. I didn’t come back. Not really. The me you knew, Jesus Mary, that fuck, he died with Noah, and what was left… It wasn’t something I wanted you to see. Not there. Noah was dead-” he paused, desperately trying to force the tears back down his throat. “And I knew you would come in and be grateful I was alive. I wasn’t fucking _grateful_. I wanted to be dead. I wanted to be with Noah and the rest of my unit. I wasn’t fucking grateful.” He took another shuddering breath. “I think if you had walked in relieved to see me, I would've broken something. Probably myself. Maybe you.”

“Are you grateful now?” Gansey asked in a voice so small it tore apart Ronan’s insides. 

“I’m getting there.”

Gansey took a shuddering breath. 

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Nothing important.”

Ronan threw the empty beer bottle away in a curving arch, reminding himself of another night. The smashing of glass chimed through the quiet. God, he fucking missed Noah. “Will you… Could you… Fuck. I’m want to go to Noah’s grave tomorrow. I missed his funeral.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Jesus Mary, Ronan loved Gansey more than he'd ever be able to express. “Only if you’re not busy.”

“I’m not.”

“I’ll pick you up at half nine.”

“You sure your rental car can make it that far?”

Ronan fought the blush from his cheeks. Almost like Gansey would sense it. “Adam didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He rebuilt the BMW.”

Gansey coughed suddenly, choking, and it took him a few minutes to caught his breath. “He did what?”

“Dropped it off the other day. I thought maybe, with him reading your thesis and all, he would have told you.”

Gansey was silent for a few moments. “Are you sure you don’t know how Adam feels about you?”

“Thanks for talking to me, Dick. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Hummmmm,” Gansey thrilled. “Night, man.” 

Ronan ignored the hint of laughter in Gansey’s voice as he hung up the phone. 

Hours later, Ronan was still on the porch watching dawn eat the horizon. The light was a slow leak, a drip of water from a broken pipe, until it wasn't, until it was a flood erasing the dark. Black sky turned navy turned pink and then exploded a searing yellow. He got up and went to get ready. 

Hands shaking, he did up the top button of his dress uniform. His breath caught when he looked in the mirror. He wanted to tear the uniform off, to forget ever having this insane idea, but if he was saying goodbye to Noah, he was doing it right. Rolling his shoulders and shaking out his hands, he tied the laces on his dress shoes and trapped his army beret in the crock of his arm. He was ready. 

Gansey stepped out of Monmouth in a suit and Ronan was again hit with gratitude for his best friend. He never had to _say_ anything. Gansey always just seemed to _know_. 

Gansey stopped when he saw the car and shook his head. “Jesus,” he said, climbing in. “He really rebuilt it.”

Ronan shrugged, rolling the leather of the steering wheel between aching fingers. “Ya ready?”

“Are you?”

Ronan shrugged again. 

They drove to Arlington in silence. 

It was only when they'd parked and climbed out that Gansey noticed it. Pinned to his chest. Shining slightly in the morning light. 

“Ronan,” he said, voice clipped. “What is that?”

Ronan shrugged. “Purple heart.”

“Excuse me?”

“They gave it to me, awarded it to me I guess, after I got home. It arrived in the post a few weeks ago.” Ronan looked away and examined a sign, refusing to look back at Gansey's gaping mouth and reddening face. “Information is this way. They'll help us find the grave.”

Gansey's said nothing else. Just followed behind him. 

The two marines on the door saluted him when he walked into the spacey welcome area. He stopped walking, clicking his heels together and saluted back. The woman at the round desk smiled as he approached. 

“How can I help you?”

Ronan swallowed, seizing panic gripping at his throat. The words lodged in his throat and he coughed. 

“We're looking for a grave. One of our friends. Noah Czerny.” Gansey's voice was smooth caramel, charming and sweet. 

“Of course dear, one moment,” she said, turning back to her computer. 

Gansey examined him concerned and whispered, “You okay?”

Ronan nodded, still unable to talk. 

The woman looked back at them. “Okay, so, you don't have far to walk, he's buried in the newer area.” She took out a map and threw a route in thick black marker, circling the section they needed to go to. 

“Thank you for this,” Gansey said, taking the map. 

“Thank you,” Ronan said thickly. 

The woman took the hand he'd rested on the counter. “Thank you for your service.”

Managing not to flinch, Ronan nodded.

Saluting the marines again, he followed Gansey into the bright sunlight. They walked through the graves in silence. Tourists quieted and stared as he walked by. He wanted to tell them to _fuck right off, you fucking vultures_ , but this was Arlington. If he was going to act respectful anywhere, it was here. It was so easy to fall back into soldier Ronan. He was clipping his steps, back straightened and arms stiff by his side. He missed his weapons. He missed his unit. He missed Noah. 

Gansey walked beside him; the same silent, steady presence he'd been for Ronan's whole life. 

When they got to the edge of grass, Ronan put his hand on Gansey’s arm. “I gotta do this alone, man.” 

“I'll be right here.”

Ronan nodded and walked between the white headstones. So many soldiers. So many families. So many friends. So much loss. He allowed it to lap at his feet, an ocean waiting to swallow him whole. It took him ten minutes of wandering between the rows to find Noah. 

Everything inside Ronan stilled. 

He'd expected tears or panic, maybe even a flashback, but he was completely present. The heat warmed his cheeks and the dark material of his uniform. There was a drop of sweat racing down his back. A slight breeze made the material of his ankles flap back and forth. Pollen itched at his eyes. His hands were clenched in fists. Weakness ate at his knuckles from the tension of the shape. Pain still throbbed through his body from the fall earlier; his knee ached, his shoulder spasmed and breathing still twinged his ribs with every inhale. Chatter and murmuring voices carried over the air. Birds swooped and cawed and called to each other. The leaves rustled and the grass flowed like a river in the wind. The sky was a perfect blue lake with the sun sitting lazily in its depths.

Ronan was alive. 

He was alive. 

He'd survived. 

Taking off his dog tags, he hung them on Noah's headstone. “Miss ya, man. Love ya." He took a breath, listening to the calming presence of the area. This place was like his parents grave; peaceful and safe. "I'll always love you.” He clipped his heels and saluted once. “Bye, Noah.” He turned and walked back to Gansey.


	41. The unknowable known

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pure indulgent fluff and I may need to add another chapter because this was not part of outline. 
> 
> Anyway enjoy <3 
> 
> As always, thank you for the kudos and comments. I so appreciate them all <3

Without the BMW to work on, Adam was back to oil changes and spark plugs. Despite the brain melting dullness, he still found some pleasure in the chatter of the mechanics around him and the simple joy of a job well done. He let the others work on the bigger jobs for commission and their appreciation was clear in the cups of coffee he was brought, in lunch being shared with him and the inclusion in jokes. 

He was not where he wanted to be, but for the moment, he was okay with it.

He left work on Wednesday evening with no plan except a quick visit to see his mom and then bed. He didn't expect to see the charcoal BMW parked outside of Boyd's and Ronan slouching against it, arms crossed and face tight. He looked wrecked; dark bags made his blue eyes navy, his lips were drawn into a thin line and wrinkles echoed across his forehead. Concern bit at Adam when Ronan barely nodded in greeting. 

Adam paused a foot away from him. “You okay, man?”

“Rough day,” Ronan said, voice thick. He rubbed his eyes with a shaking hand. “Really fucking rough day.”

Without giving himself time to question the action, Adam stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Ronan's stiff frame. It took a few moments before Ronan relaxed into the hug and wrapped his arms around Adam's back. He tucked his head into the crook of Adam's neck and pulled him closer by fisting his hands into Adam's t-shirt. He smelt like sunshine and freshly cut grass, but the muscles across his back were bunched together, and each inhale caused a shudder to run through them, like he was just about holding himself together.

Adam rubbed his back in what he hoped were soothing circles and tried to ignore the kiss of Ronan's breath on his neck. The damp press of tears slid across his skin and he hugged Ronan tighter. “You're alright. I got ya.”

The hold on on his t-shirt tightened. “I miss him, man. I really miss him.” 

Adam didn't say anything. Just held him.

It was a long moment before Ronan finally pushed him off. He looked away casually when Ronan dragged a hand down his face, wiping it dry of tears. Leaning against the car, he let his body touch Ronan's in some form of comfort. The sun was still burning down. The tarmac danced on the horizon, a hazy hope for cooler days. Clouds raced across the sky but never seemed to block out the light. He could hear cars off in the distance. Rush hour had just begun and everyone was racing home.

Adam wiped the back of his neck, unsure. “Wanna get food?” 

Ronan smiled, an empty shape that barely touched his lips. “I dunno if I'll be able to eat.”

“Well, let's get cheeseburgers and go up to the cliff and hide away from the shitty world.” He took Ronan's hand and linked their fingers together. He hoped Ronan couldn't feel the beat of his pulse in his wrist. “Or we could just go back to The Barns and watch movies?”

“Cheeseburgers sound good.” Ronan looked down at their entwined fingers with an expression Adam couldn't read. “I'll need my hand back to drive.”

Adam flushed. “Yeah, I guess.”

Neither let go. 

When Adam glanced back up, Ronan was already staring at him. He gulped and Ronan's eyes followed the movement. 

“Okay. Food. Cliff,” Adam said, coughing to clear the thickness in his throat. He tried to let go of his hand but Ronan just tightened his hold. 

“If I let go, can I hold it again in the car?” There was something vulnerable in the way he said it. Like he thought Adam was going to reject him or laugh at him. “Because otherwise I'm not letting go.” The blush across his cheeks was horribly attractive.

Adam felt like his face was on fire. He swallowed again and managed, “Yeah, okay, sure man. Yeah.” 

Ronan grinned and let go of his hand. “Okay then.” 

They got the food and drove in silence to the cliff. Ronan didn't let go of his hand until he'd parked. He reached behind him and grabbed a blanket from the backseat. “Blanket. Food.” He pointed to the bag and then at Adam. “Person.” He opened the car door, looking back at Adam as he did. "Thanks for hanging out with me."

Adam shrugged and smiled. "You were the best offer I had."

"Oh yeah," Ronan replied, leaving the car. "No hot dates with gorgeous, non-malfunctioning people?"

Adam watched as Ronan threw the blanket on the ground in front of the BMW, and sat down on it, looking up at him expectantly. "Nah, just hot dates with gorgeous, malfunctioning people."

It was so worth the courage it took to say because of the way the words made Ronan blush the too-pretty crimson colour again.

"Shut up, Parrish," he grumbled. "Eat your food."

Adam sat down beside him, as close as he could get. It was quiet up here, sometimes the silence was broken by the call of a bird or the scuffling of an animal in the undergrowth, but mostly the only noise was his and Ronan's breathing. The grass around the edges of the dirt track was longer than the last time they were here and it moved in the breeze. The clouds had finally caught up with the sun and for the moment they were in the shade. Henrietta still glittered in the sunlight though. Adam leaned his head back against the grill and inhaled the thick scent of flowers.

He could feel Ronan's eyes on him. He wanted Ronan's eyes on him.

Ripping open the drive thru bag, Ronan laid out the food like they were having a picnic. He'd ordered way too much food, but Adam hadn't eaten since breakfast, so he scoffed down two cheeseburgers and most of the fries, stopping only when he noticed Ronan wasn't eating.

“Try a fry,” Adam said, holding one out to him. 

Ronan eyed it, untrusting. 

“Ronan.”

“Adam.”

“Ronan.”

“Fine.” He ate the fry right out of Adam's fingers.

Adam flushed as Ronan's lips skimmed his fingers. “Do you want another?” 

Ronan shrugged, but when Adam held one up, he ate that too. They continued like that until all the fries were gone. “Don't make me feed you the cheeseburger as well.”

"Fine, I'll feed myself." Ronan frowned and pouted. “No appreciation for veterans nowadays.”

A shocked laugh burst from Adam. 

Ronan took a pleased bite of his burger. “Thanks again for this.” 

“Any time.” When Ronan placed his head on Adam's shoulder, he ignored how his heart sped up at the closeness. “Seriously, anytime.”

Ronan took his hand and they watched the sunset in silence. 

Adam didn't remember falling asleep. Just that it was dark now and he'd clearly been asleep for a while. He certainly didn't remember how his head had gotten into Ronan's lap. Not that he was complaining as Ronan ran his fingers through his hair. Adam almost cooed in appreciation. Luckily he managed to stop himself by biting his lip and trapping the noise in his mouth. He was covered in a soft hoodie. Ronan's smell and warmth was everywhere. He wanted to dig in further to the safety, to lose himself in it. Instead, he shifted, twisting around onto his back and staring up. Ronan was looking out at Henrietta, eyes unfocused and mouth slashed in a military line. There was a vicious exhaustion written across his forehead. 

Adam swallowed, wishing he could reach up and smooth out the crease between Ronan's eyebrows. “How long have I been out?”

“About an hour," he said, voice as thick as it had been when he picked up Adam from work. Adam realised there were tear tracks down his face and his eyes were red and puffy. 

“I'm sorry, man.” 

Ronan snorted. “Why are you apologising?”

“I was meant to be making you feel better and I fell asleep.” He pushed himself up off Ronan, hating how the cold air kissed his warm skin. “Seriously, sorry.”

“Adam. I had a bad day. One of the worst days." He swallowed and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Fuck." When he took his hands down, he reached forward, fingers skimming Adam's cheekbone. Adam shivered under the touch. Ronan dropped his hand. "I'm not drunk and I'm not racing and I'm not fighting. I've eaten and I'm not destroying anything.” He leaned his head back against the grill, mirroring Adam's earlier action, and stared at the stars. “This, right now, this is all I needed.”

Ronan was all shadows; dressed in black, pale skin grey in the darkness, face hidden even from the weak moon. Adam desperately wanted to touch him, or be touched. The weight of the words settled onto Adam's shoulders. “Ronan, I…”

“Don't, man, it's fine." He waved a lazy, dismissive hand. "You don't have to say anything. I just… Thanks.”

He nodded, throat tight. "You don't have to keep thanking me. I want to be here. I want to be the person-" he paused. Courage. Just a little bit of courage. "I want to be the person you come to when you need someone." 

Ronan threw his arm over his shoulders and pulled him close. The kiss Ronan placed on his hairline was barely there and Adam thought he might have imagined it.

Friday morning found Adam trying to get through invoices and orders. He was distracted, trying to figure out why exactly he was still holding Ronan at arms length. He knew he had to make the next move, knew Ronan wouldn't kiss him again without explicit permission, and yet, Adam couldn't, _wouldn't_ , allow himself to take the thing he wanted. There was too much to figure out. He'd be leaving soon. He didn't want to stay in Henrietta. This was Ronan's home. Ronan had no interest in the life Adam wanted. He had already proven himself; no, Ronan had never needed to prove himself. He'd been loved unconditionally his whole life. Adam was the one who needed to validate himself. He had to prove he hadn't wasted so many years, _over a decade_ , to show the world he was good enough. The thoughts swirled around his head, back and forth, echoing and repeating. He pushed himself back from his desk and made himself a cup of coffee.

He was on his third coffee when the office door was flung open. Gansey stalked in and threw himself into a chair. 

He huffed, and then when Adam said nothing, he huffed again. 

“You okay, man?” Adam asked with a smirk. 

“I'm going to fail and be the laughing stock of the academic world-" Gansey paused and examined his hands. "All of this will have been for nothing.” 

Adam sighed, recognising a college-related breakdown. “I've read everything you've written so far," he said kindly. "Your lit. review is well researched and your first two chapters are coherent and relevant to your topic.” He didn't look away from his computer as he spoke. “Also you have another year before you have to present it so i think you're doing okay.”

"Yes. That is all true and logical." Gasney sighed. "It doesn't stop the insecurities from surfacing though."

"I won't let you hand in anything that isn't good enough, okay? I promise."

"Thank you, Adam. I am just being dramatic. I've obviously been spending too much time with Helen." Gansey grinned, ruefully. "Can you go for lunch yet?”

Checking the time, Adam nodded. "Let me just finish this one invoice." He clicked, filled in a name and address and closed the programme.

Gansey stood and opened the door. He didn't look back to check if Adam was following. He knew he would be. 

Blue stormed over to them when they sat in the booth and fell in beside Gansey. “I hate this place. God.”

“Is everyone in a wildly dramatic mood today?" And then when Blue glared at him, Adam asked. "What happened?” 

“They cut my hours because the raven boys are off school which means my savings aren't growing which means," she continued dramatically. "I won't be able to go to Asia until forever.” She threw her head on the table and groaned into her arms. 

“What if I hel…”

“Shut the fuck up, Gansey.”

Adam looked at Gansey who shook his head. 

“Stop talking about me.”

“No one has talked,” Adam said.

“I know when someone in silently discussing me. I do live with three therapists." Blue glared up at him. "What can I get you?”

“Pizza," he answered, hands raised in surrender. 

Gansey sat back, crossed his arms and seemed to be avoiding saying anything. 

“You know we're not having this conversation again." Blue smirked. "So what can I get you?”

“Pizza,” Gansey replied. “And a coke.”

Blue sat up and kissed him on the cheek. “Lovely.” 

“What was that?” Adam asked when she left. 

“I offered to pay for her trip.” 

Adam choked and then laughed. “You're actually an idiot, aren't you?” 

Gansey dropped his head into his arms. “Yes, man. Yes I am.” He groaned and looked up from his crossed arms. “But if I have the money, and I love her, what's the problem?” 

“You love her?” 

Gansey flushed crimson. 

“Don't ever offer her money.” Adam tapped his fingers on the table, trying to keep his voice calm. “She worked her way through Europe. She did it all alone, and when she goes to Asia, that'll be something she does alone as well, okay?” 

“You sound like her.”

Adam smirked. “Yeah, we're cut from the same cloth.” 

Two cokes were slammed onto the table. Liquid sloshed everywhere. “I'm finished for the day apparently because it's quiet,” she hissed and landed in beside Gansey. “Be nice to me.” 

Gansey put his arm around her and kissed her head. “You're pretty and smart and self-reliant and you should drink some coke.”

Blue kissed his cheek again. “Thanks.” She glanced over at Adam. “Adam, I've the best idea. Why don't you not go back to work and then we can all go get drunk?” 

“I probably shou….”

“Pleeeaaaasssseeee,” she interrupted. 

He laughed, “I'll text Jessie and see what he says.” 

“I'll text Ronan,” Gansey said. “Get the band back together.” 

“God, you're embarrassing,” Blue groaned. 

Gansey smiled at her fondly and kissed her head. “Whatever.” 

Jessie had just replied with _IT'S FRIDAY, GO HAVE FUN_ when Ronan sat in beside Adam. 

“Heard we were getting drunk and eating pizza,” he said, stealing a slice off Adam's plate. “Monmouth?” 

“Monmouth,” Gansey agreed. “Ronan, stop eating our pizza.”

"Fuck off, Dick," Ronan replied, mouth full.

Blue laughed when Gansey huffed out a complaint about _manners_ and chucked a napkin at Ronan. He grabbed a straw from Adam's drink and flicked coke at her in retaliation. Gansey kissed the drops off her face making Ronan groan and lean into Adam's shoulder. Everyone was laughing and hitting each other, throwing insults and compliments. Ronan’s hand was resting on Adam's thigh like it was nothing and Adam's arm was resting along the back of the booth. Ronan kept leaning into him, and Blue was shooting him knowing looks, and Gansey was staring at her like she was the sun and he was about to be blinded, and Adam viewed all these wonderful people who were his _friends_ and the unknowable man had never felt so known.


	42. Are I safe yet or is it just a dream?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I have nothing more exciting to do than update my fic on a Saturday night *kissy faces* 
> 
> TW: there is a lot of discussion of canon level abuse and a dream. No violence but a lot of talking. Keep yourself safe, lovelies.
> 
> Also, thank you for all the support through the writing if this! You're all so amazing!! 
> 
> Also, also I have a tumblr. It's   
> http ://daisyapples.tumblr.com just in case you want to follow me or say hello or reblog the fic or all three <3

The day had been too long and Adam still had to go see his mom. The walls of his office, covered in paper and pictures, cracked plaster and too many notice boards, were starting to close in on him. The tiny window didn't allow in a lot of daylight and the fan in the corner was doing little to ease the heavy weight of the air. He cracked his neck and blinked a few times, hoping the words on the computer screen would start making sense again.

They didn't. 

“Screw it,” he muttered. It was already half six. He'd been at the garage since seven am. “You can't put it off forever.” 

Visiting hours were only until nine. At this rate he'd have to spend less than two hours with her. He switched off the computer and stretched out his back. His phone vibrated; Ronan asking him if he wanted to watch a movie. He considered blowing off his mom again, but he hadn't seen her in a week, and he knew she was fading fast. 

_Gotta visit mom. Maybe tomorrow?_

_sure, call me after if you need to talk. I'll even pick up._

Smirking, Adam switched off the lights in the office and waved to the evening staff. Everyone else had left at five. He really needed to learn that type of self-control. 

It took too little time to get to the care home. He sat in the car for a few minutes, listening to the engine cool and watching the sun sink low in the sky. He wanted to go see Ronan. Wanted to tell him the truth. Wanted to be brave. 

Instead, he opened the door and went to see his mom. 

The thick smell of disinfectant clawed at his throat when he pushed open the door. Goosebumps pricked along his skin at the sound of so much illness; gasping breaths and moans, the beep of machines and the quiet whisper of families. 

He hated it here and he was so _tired_. 

He just wanted to start his real life. This place was a rock around his ankle, dragging him below the surface. Every time he managed to free himself, it pulled him back down with bills or new symptoms or visits or guilt. He couldn't seem to break free. 

When he walked into the room, his mom was sitting up in the bed, awake and lucid. His heart dropped. "Mom," he said, surprised. 

He'd expected her to be sleeping like the last few times he'd visited. Those hadn't been the worst; he'd sat by her bed, correcting Gansey’s thesis and playing the role of good son. 

“Adam, you finally came to visit me.”

He didn't miss the sarcasm lacing her tone. “I've been a lot, Mom. You're just always sleeping.” 

“I'm sure.” She waved her hand, like a queen dismissing a peasant. “It's just so sad knowing your father was right about you. I've seen it more than ever these last few weeks.” 

Adam dropped into the chair, knees suddenly weak. He tried to talk, force his mouth to form words, but it felt like his throat had closed up. 

“Oh, don't look at me like that.” Thin fingers, more skeleton than flesh, reached forward and grabbed his hand. There was no heat to her skin. “I did my best, Adam, I did, but you were so stubborn. So sure you were better than us.” 

“I just wanted…” He suddenly wasn't sure what he wanted; a loving family, an easy life, a safe home. All he knew was that he had _wanted_ for so long, and so much, it had become his default setting. He didn't know what it was to not _want_. “I needed…”

She waved his words away. “And look, all that fancy education, all that high and mighty studying, and you still ended up exactly where your father said. Right where you started.”

Adam choked. “I'm only here to look after you. I turned down good jobs, opportunities, so you'd be well cared for.” The words came out weak. He couldn't get seem to catch his breath; it felt like there were vines twisting around his lungs, _tightening, tightening, tightening_.

“The least you could do for family." She huffed. "The least of your obligations.” She started coughing then, a hacking noise ripping through her. 

Wordlessly, he handed her a glass of water. 

When she stopped coughing, the only noise for a few minutes was her thready breathing. Adam was… He didn't know what he was. Freezing numbness soaked through him, protecting him from the pain he knew was surging somewhere beneath the surface. 

“Adam, sweetie." She sounded almost sincere, motherly. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I just think you must realise by now you're not better than us. You're never were. You've always been the same.”

The words were a slap across his face. “I'm not,” he answered, voice cold and strength returning.

“What was that?” She sounded as cruel as his father always had. “What did you say?”

“I'm not the same as you.” He took a shuddering breath, desperately trying to control the fire burning off the comforting numb. “I _am_ better than you. You and dad, god, you're so small, so bitter. I did nothing,” he hissed, refusing to raise his voice. “ _Nothing_. I tried to better myself. I tried to make something of myself. You let him hit me. You let him try and break me. Like one of his dogs. I don't care that you never wanted me but I care that you allowed him to hurt me again and again.”

“Adam, he was just trying to put some manners in you. I know your father was a hard man but…”

“No buts, Mom. He was a bastard.”

“Adam,” she gasped. 

“How can you be shocked? Jesus, mom. What do you expect from me?” 

“He's your father.”

“He's an abusive fuck and I'm glad he's dead. I am so glad he's dead.” The words didn't make him feel better. They didn't release any of the pressure crushing his chest. They were just the truth. “You let him hit me, mom. You let me believe I deserved it.”

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. Adam desperately tried to calm his breathing. His heart was pumping too fast, the pulse in his neck hurting as it tried to keep up. He didn't feel good. He always imagined when he finally said it, he'd feel better, but he just felt tired. So fucking tired. 

“I'm gonna go, mom. I'm not coming back.” 

“Adam…”

“No, mom. You did this. You failed me. I was a kid. I was so fucking small and you let him take so much from me.” He took a shuddering breath, refusing to cry in front of her. “Goodbye, mom.”

She didn't say anything as he left. 

300 Fox Way looked like safety when he pulled into the driveway. His throat itched with unshed tears. He'd text Persephone on his way over and she was waiting on the porch. 

“Adam.” 

The quiet way she said his name broke the last of his control. Tears streamed down his face. He stumbled up the driveway and into her arms. “I did it. I told the truth,” he whispered into her shoulder. 

“And how do you feel?” 

“Tired.” 

“Come inside. Have some pie.” She led him into the phone/sewing/cat room and gestured to the couch. He sat down and she threw a blanket over him. “Lie down, Adam. I'll be right back.”

Adam was falling asleep before she even left the room.

The pie was waiting for him when he woke up. He swallowed down a glass of stale water and inhaled the sugary treat. Confused and shakey, he got up. It was still light out but the wrong kind. Too bright for the end of the day. His phone was dead. 

Persephone was waiting in the kitchen. “Better?”

He nodded and refilled the glass. “What time is it?” 

“Just past three. You slept for about eighteen hours.”

“Shit." Adam ran a tired hand down his face. He could feel the indents from the cushion pressed into his face. "I've got to call work.”

She waved away his words. “I've already covered it. Jessie is an old friend. He told you to take the rest of the week off." She gave him a soft smile. "How are you feeling?”

“I feel-” Adam paused. “I'm tired, I guess. Proud of myself, maybe? I told her I wasn't going back.”

Persephone nodded. She didn't say anything. Just waited. 

“I'm so tired.” Tears pricked at his eyes. He rubbed them with the heel of his hands. “I don't know what I expected. Relief, maybe? I didn't think I'd feel so empty.” He slumped down onto the counter and watched Persephone pour two cups of coffee. “It was the right thing to do though. It's like my whole body has unclenched. Like I'm free, maybe?” He took a long drink of coffee. The longer he was awake, the better he felt. “I wish I'd had the chance to say it to him.” 

Persephone nodded. “Have you visited his grave?” 

He shook his head. “Not since the funeral.” 

“You could say it to him there. Just because he's gone, doesn't mean you can't have the catharsis.” 

“Do I have to do it today?”

“You don't have to do anything you don't want to. It's just an option. Another is writing a letter.” Persephone refilled his cup. “But again, you may not need to. This might be enough to move on, to let the past go.” 

“So I'm fixed?”

“There is no fixed or broken.” She sighed. “And unfortunately, there is no destination. This is journey, Adam. But for now, I think, you can rest a while.” 

Adam's shoulders slump, tension falling away. “How can I still be tired?” 

“You’ve had a very trying time.” She ruffled his hair. “It takes it toll. Will you be okay alone in the apartment or would you like to stay here? You are more than welcome.” 

“I think I'll go to The Barns." Adam blushed. "Ronan will let me stay there for as long as I need.” 

“l'm glad you're allowing yourself good things.”

“I still can't say it to him. I still can't tell him how I feel.”

“You’ll know when it’s right. Trust your instincts.” 

Adam groaned. “I am so bad at that. So bad.”

Persephone laughed. “You're doing fine, Adam. You are doing so well.” She hugged him so tight when he left that he could feel her presence all the way to The Barns.

Ronan barely reacted when Adam walked into the sitting room, toed off his shoes and fell onto the couch. He was playing Mario Kart, and he paused the game, pulled a blanket off the back of an armchair, and covered Adam with it. Squeezing his ankle once, he went back to his TV. 

Adam could have cried he was so grateful. He watched for a while, enjoying the concentration on Ronan's face and the dexterous movement of his fingers, until his eyes got too heavy to keep open.

He wasn't asleep. He wasn't asleep. He wasn't asleep. 

He was just dreaming. 

The ground was rough beneath his cheek. A monster towered over him, shadow and darkness. Adam was small, smaller than he could ever remember being, and he was trying so hard to be even smaller, to be so tiny he would disappear. Maybe then, the monster would leave him alone. 

“Get up boy,” the monster snarled through fangs and dripping lips. The voice sounded like his father.

Adam got up.

He was taller now, taller than the monster, and it was shrinking and shrinking until Adam could have picked it up if he wanted. Adam didn’t want to. He was still scared of the monster that sounded like his dad. He glanced up and a pair of eyes watched him from a window set in a shadowed shape. He was scared of them as well. They looked like his mom's eyes. 

“Adam," a cheerful conglomeration of voices called; it contained a melody of joy and comfort and happiness.

He turned from the darkness. Ronan, Gansey and Blue stood at the end of the driveway, bathed in light. They were the same size as Adam, and they were waving, gesturing and laughing for him to hurry up. 

The monster bit his ankle. 

He looked down, confused. 

“You can’t just leave, boy," the monster with his father's voice said. "You've to stay here with us.” 

He looked to the staring eyes in the window, and the tiny monster, and said, “But I left before.”

“You came back.”

“There’s nothing to come back to anymore.” 

The window with the staring eyes was gone. The monster bellowed. Adam crouched down to get a proper look at it, watching it morph back into his father. He seemed so small now, so insignificant. “You can’t just leave,” he whined.

“Yes, I can.” He turned and walked towards his real family. 

He didn’t look back. 

He woke slowly, warm and safe. His feet were in Ronan’s lap and the other man was reading by lamplight. He watched him for a while, enjoying how relaxed he seemed. One hand held the book and the other was resting on Adam’s ankle, thumb drawing circles on the sensitive skin. It was dusk; the setting sun casting the whole room in sepia. 

“I can feel you watching me.”

Adam shrugged, for once not caring. “How long was I out for?”

“Few hours. Hungry?”

Adam nodded. 

“Cool, wait there. I’ll get you food.”

He cuddled back down into the warm blanket, soft as a cloud and just as light. The dream lingered at the edges of his consciousness, trying to suck him down, but he pushed it away. It hadn’t been a nightmare. Not really. It was just the end of it all, the letting go. 

Ronan put a grilled cheese sandwich in front of him. “I haven’t gone shopping,” he said by way of explanation before sitting back down and pulling Adam’s feet back onto his lap. “Movie?”

Grabbing half the sandwich, and eating it without sitting up, Adam shrugged, “Whatever you want.” 

Ronan nodded, and then biting his lip, he said, “If you want to talk…” He left it there and Adam wanted to hug him. 

“Thanks,” he muttered, finishing his sandwich and digging back under the cushions.


	43. It's time to say goodbye. It's time to start again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, lovelies. I've been hella unwell and the writing of this chapter was beyond me. 
> 
> We're almost at the end! Cannot believe it! Only two chapters left after this! How very exciting!! 
> 
> Thank you for all the support *kisses*

Even though Persephone had covered for him, and Ronan tried to talk him out of it, Adam went back to work the next day. He refused to let his family take Boyd's away from him as well. He wasn't going to lose his job because he couldn't be bothered to show up. He made it through, and then he went back again, and again, and again, and before he knew it, two weeks had passed.

He didn't go back to see his mom.

He didn't even want to.

He survived each day, and at the end of them Ronan picked him up, refusing to listen to any of Adam's protests, _I've no job, Parrish, least let me enjoy the routine you're all obsessed with_. He drove him to work as well, and cooked for him. Adam kept expecting him to get annoyed, or bored, or frustrated, but everyday he was there, sharp grin in place.

Adam wished he could articulate how much it meant to him, but everything was too much, and he was lost in his head so often, sometimes hours could pass without him saying anything, and Ronan never seemed to mind all that much anyway.

Every day was a test of endurance. Noise scratched down his nerves; he jumped every time someone slammed a door or shouted across the garage. The muscles across his shoulders and down his back were knotted into painful balls, spasming at every jerk. Tears were constantly prickling at his eyes but he refused to release them. He had a constant headache. The lump in his throat made it hard to breath. He'd started scratching his wrist absently, only stopping when he realised he'd drawn blood, and then, absently, he'd switch wrists. Scabs laced his arms. The action was the only thing calming the anxiety clawing at his chest though so he kept it up. Anything to ease the lightning storm raging within him. 

Ronan had taken to holding his hands apart when they hung out. Sometimes it calmed him down; the hot heat of Ronan's hand is his. But mostly, it forced him to feel the panic. Sometimes, it burned itself out. Mostly, it didn't, and he became a sprawling mess of a person.

There was no map, no guidebook.

Just him; falling apart and building himself back up again.

Ronan never flinched.

Adam had never felt so seen. 

The hospice kept calling. He took the first few thinking it was about money, but once he realised it was just the nurses wondering if he was coming back, because _she's not doing well, you really should see her_ , he stopped answering. Even though that meant he was in Persephone's daily retching up guilt and pain and hurt. She listened, and helped him to breath through it, like he was birthing a new life, and this was the final stages of labour. 

Monday morning, he missed another call. Not missed, not really. He'd ignored it. Just like all the others. He only answered when they rang three times in a row. 

“Hello, is this Adam Parrish?”

Adam hummed his agreement, still typing an email to a customer. 

“Adam, I'm very sorry, but I've some bad news.” The caller took a shaky breath. “I'm afraid your mother passed away in her sleep.”

Adam stopped typing. “Oh.”

“We haven't moved her yet in case you wanted to see her.” 

A hot rush of shame choked Adam. “I'm just in work. I'll be there in half an hour.” He swallowed. “Have you rang her sister? She's the other next of kin.”

“I wanted to ring you first.”

Adam nodded and realised she couldn't see it. “It's fine. I'll call her.” He ran a tired hand down his face. “Thanks for letting me know.” 

He sat at his desk for a long moment before calling his aunts number. “Hello?” She answered in an impatient and angry tone. She was the opposite to her sister who was meek, empty, useless. 

“Faye, it's Adam. Mom passed away in her sleep. She's gone.”

Faye sighed. “Okay. I'm in work now but I'll be over to see her this evening. Text me if you need anything.”

“Okay.” 

She hung up without another word. 

He lay his forehead on his hands and closed his eyes. She was gone and he had no idea what to do. 

“ADAM?” 

He blinked and squinted up at Jessie. There was a pounding beginning just behind his eyes. “My mom died.”

“WHAT DO YOU NEED?”

He shrugged. “I'm not sure. I have to go to the care home to see her. I have to organise the funeral. I have to go. Can you look after here?” 

“OF COURSE. WILL I RING BOYD FOR YOU?” 

Adam nodded. “That'd be great.” He picked up his keys and bag. “I'll give him a text as well. Let him know any details.” He nodded again, standing by his desk, keys grasped in one hand and the other holding onto the strap of his bag. “I better go.” 

Jessie clapped him on the back as he passed. “LOOK AFTER YOURSELF, ADAM. CALL US IF YOU NEED ANYTHING.” 

The car was too silent but he didn't turn on the radio. Henrietta was the same as always. Parents pushed buggies down the street. People sat outside coffee shops chatting. The sun was burning down, turning the tarmac to liquid. The sky was the same blue as Ronan's eyes. Adam blinked away sudden tears. 

He was all alone. 

The care home looked the same as it always did. Paint peeling in sunlight, window scuffed and dirty, grass brown and flowers wilted; Adam noted the details as he forced himself up the uneven pathway. The receptionist looked up with a small smile when he left the heat. 

“Hi Adam, how ya doing?” She gave him a kind smile. “Do you need anything?” 

“I'm okay, ma'am. Thank you.” He wrapped his hand tighter around his bag strap. “Is she still in her room?” 

“She is, and Mrs Flynn, our funeral director, is free to chat after.” 

Adam nodded. “Thanks.” 

The corridor felt like it took hours to traverse. The door to her room was closed, and taking a shaky breath, Adam opened it. The curtains were pulled and a small lamp was on, leaving the room dim. She looked almost peaceful. Someone had wrapped a red scarf around her head. The white sheets were pulled up to her chin. 

Adam wiped his eyes. They were still dry. Something pulsed beneath his skin, some feeling he couldn't identify. He touched shaking fingers to her cheek. “I hope it's better, mom. I hope it doesn't hurt now.” 

Wiping his dry eyes again, he went to find the funeral director. 

“So the whole package costs three thousand dollars," Mrs Flynn said after the longest conversation of Adam's life. They'd gone through the ceremony, the coffin, the wake, and the reception.

Adam nodded. “I can have a check in the morning.”

“Is there any special music or readings you'd like?” 

Adam shook his head. “My aunt will be by later. She may have preferences. Just give her anything she wants. Otherwise standard arrangement is fine.” His eyes stung with tiredness. “Is there anything else you need to know?”

“No, that's all for now." She gave him a kind smile. "We'll ring if there's anything else. Do you have someone picking you up?” 

Adam shook his head again. “I've no one-” he paused. He was so used to answering that question as a negative. He was so used to being alone, but with Ronan, with Blue and Gansey, with Persephone, he wasn't alone. Not anymore. “I'll ring my friend. I'll be fine.” He'd never had anyone to call in an emergency. Warmth settled over his skin. He had someone. 

She smiled, "Okay. Look after yourself. We'll see you on Wednesday for the wake and Thursday for the funeral.”

Exhaustion hit when he left the building, weighing down his limbs and making his bones ache. It was later than he'd expected, almost half five, and he hadn't eaten all day. The headache was almost a migraine and he just wanted someone to look after him for a while. He sat on the curb and called Ronan. 

“Adam?” 

Ronan so rarely called him by his first name, it made his heart hurt. “My mom died,” he said, voice cracking. “I'm at the care home.”

“I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

“It takes forty minutes to get here from The Barns,” he answered with a watery smile.

“I'm a quick driver. Stay there, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Adam hung up and rested his head on his knees. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck.”

The BMW roared into the parking lot fifteen minutes later. Ronan was out and hunching in front of him seconds after. The car hummed behind him, engine still running. The noise cut through the quiet like a growling dog. 

“Hey." Ronan pulled his face up gently and ran a thumb along his cheek. "You okay?”

Adam leaned into his touch, shrugging. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Obviously.” Ronan edged forward and wrapped long, strong arms around him. “I got ya, man. Anything you need.”

“Sleep. Food probably. Three grand.” He choked out a laugh. “There goes all my savings. How awful is it that's what I'm worried about? My goddamn savings.” The tears fell hot and fast then, soaking his face and Ronan's black t-shirt. “God, I really am horrible.”

“You're not horrible." Ronan said into his good ear. His breath warmed Adam's skin. "You need to ease up on yourself.” He pushed Adam free and stared into his eyes. “You have every right to worry about your savings and your future. After your last visit with your mam, Jesus Mary, Parrish, you have to look after yourself.” 

Adam leaned back into him and Ronan wrapped him up in a hug. “Thanks, man,” he whispered into his neck.

“C'mon the fuck. Let's get home.” Adam let himself be pulled to his feet. “I'll even make you dinner.”

He managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Ronan.”

“Anytime, Adam.” 

They both ignored the other's blush. 

Hours later, dirty dinner dishes, empty candy wrappers, and coke cans surrounded them. Adam had his head in Ronan's lap and they were watching some terribly bad action movie. He didn't care though because Ronan was running his hands through his hair and his breath was warm on his cheek. His head moved with every inhale Ronan took. Ronan's heat was everywhere. His phone has mysteriously disappeared after they arrived back. It was like the outside world didn't exist. Adam felt his eyes grow heavy and he didn't fight to keep them open.

When he blinked awake, the credits filled the screen. 

“Let's get you to bed.” Ronan nudged him up. “You can borrow some of my pajamas.”

Adam rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands. “Thanks,” he muttered, half asleep.

Declan's room was cold and lonely as he got changed. Leaning against the wall, he ran a tired hand down his face. “Fuck it,” he said, opening the door and shuffling down to Ronan's room. He knocked, almost too quietly. 

“Yeah?” Ronan was lying in bed reading when the door swung open. 

Adam scratched the back of his head. “Can I stay in here tonight?” 

Ronan examined him for a minute, biting his lip. “Yeah, man. Of course.” He threw back the covers and Adam crawled in. “Anything you need.” 

Adam lay with his back to him, listening. He heard the gentle way Ronan put his book down, heard him switch off the light, and then Ronan was wrapped around him. Warm arms holding him tight, hard stomach pressed against his back and legs tangled in his. 

“I got ya, Adam.”

Adam fell asleep easily after that, safe in Ronan's arms. He woke up hours later to a dark room and a cold bed, but when he reached out, Ronan was gone.


	44. Well, it's about time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super BORED in hospital so you guys get another chapter *kissy noises*
> 
> Send me comments because I'm boreeeedddddd.

Ronan sat on the couch, head leaning back against the soft cushions, and stared at the ceiling. He hadn't bothered turning the light on. Sleep clung to him like the cobwebs he sometimes walked through in the barns. He was cold, shivering slightly in the chill of the night, but he refused to pull a blanket over himself. He had to stay awake. 

He smiled a bitter shape and wiped at his sore eyes. When Adam asked to stay with him, had let him wrap his arms around his stomach and knot their legs together, it had settled something deep inside of Ronan, a thrumming in his bones he'd been ignoring since he'd met him all those months before. Being in bed with Adam had been easy; warm, safe and comfortable. It had felt so fucking right.

He _ached_ to be back there. 

Ached to hold Adam tight. Ached to feel the gentle rhythm of his breathing. Ached to be wrapped up tight against his body. He prodded at the ache like a bruise, allowing the spike of pain to push sleep further back. He would not sleep. He would not sleep. He would not sleep. 

He refused to dream. Not with Adam in the house. 

The moon shone gentle light into the room. It highlighted the pictures of his family, echoed off furniture and glanced off the mirror. This place was safe. This was where his mom held him when he was sick or hurt or upset. This was where his dad told him stories or showed him new artifacts or listened to Ronan talk. It was where he and his brothers played. Where they had game nights and movie nights and rainy Sundays. The whole room was drenched in happy memories. They wrapped around him like a warm hug and reminded him what his life could be; kind and soft, safe and warm. Like being bed with Adam had been, a new kind of family.

He missed those days. He missed his bed.

Frustrated, he banged his head against the couch. Staying with the man he loved had been a bad idea. It was a fatal blow he wouldn't recover from. Months of friendship ruined because there was no going back now. Ronan was screwed; he knew what Adam felt like when he was asleep, knew what it was to have him go soft in his arms, knew the suffocating smell of him and the gentle beat of his heart. 

Ronan was so fucking screwed. 

He groaned, fisting his hands and knocked them off his knees. He was gonna allow himself tonight and then he was going to bury all the feelings. He'd be the best friend Adam ever fucking had, and if Adam fell in love with someone else, well Ronan would just fucking die. 

He snorted. “Fucking grow up, you loser,” he muttered and froze when he heard the creak of the stairs. “Fuck.”

The gentle steps were expected since Parrish never slept a full night. Still, he'd hoped he'd at least have until morning to grieve. When the door was gently pushed open, Ronan was already looking towards it. 

Adam leaned against the door jamb and examined him. “Hey,” he said in a voice thick with sleep. His hair stood up on one side and was pressed down on the other side. “You weren't there when I woke up.” He rubbed a hand down his pale face.

Ronan hated how upset he sounded. He leaned back against the couch and looked at the ceiling again. It was scruffed up in places. It needed to be painted. 

“Ronan?”

“Yeah, sorry, sleep isn't really my friend. I didn't want to wake you.” Truth. Mostly. “You okay?” 

“Are you?” Adam's voice was closer but Ronan hadn't heard him walking. The couch dipped beside him. “Ronan?” 

The way he said his name made the ache explode into a bright purple bruise. Ronan would be poking at that for days. “I'm tired,” he managed.

“Come back to bed.” The _with me_ went unsaid. 

Ronan couldn't look at him when he said, voice low, “I can't.”

“Oh.” Adam went to stand up and Ronan grabbed his wrist. “It doesn't matter.”

“Parrish.” It came out weak. “Wait.”

“It's fine, Lynch.” He tried to pull his wrist free. “I get it.”

Ronan kept his fingers loose but didn't let go. “You don't get it.”

“Then explain it to me.” Adam slumped back and allowed Ronan to run a soothing thumb along his knuckles. “Please.”

Ronan wasn’t sure if it was to comfort him or Adam. Staring at the ceiling, he sighed. “I have nightmares.”

“I know that.”

“Can I talk?” Ronan smirked.

“Fine,” Adam huffed out. “Off ya go.”

He swallowed away the lump in his throat. “I have nightmares, and I wake up, and it's not like before, not like that night. Fuck man, they're so much worse.” He closed his eyes and the burning car was there and Kavinsky stood in front of him, choking him, hurting him. Always trying to hurt Ronan. He took a shuddering breath. “I wake up and I think someone, K usually, I think he's in the fucking room with me.” He rubbed a shaking hand over his eyes. Adam was staring at him. He could see him in his peripheral vision. “Fuck. I lash out, man. I punch and kick and have a goddamn brawl in my bed until I fucking realise I'm safe.” His heart was beating so fast, he felt dizzy. He closed his eyes. “I lash out, Adam. I'm scared and I'm dangerous.” He finally looked at Adam and said quietly, “The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you and I'm afraid I will.”

Adam's mouth dropped open slightly. “Oh.” 

“I'm sorry.” Ronan had never felt more ashamed of what he'd become. He'd been betrayed by his own brain. Tears pricked at his eyes. “I want to be able to look after you. Jesus Mary, you've no idea how much I want to be in bed with you, but I will never hurt you. I won't. I fucking won't.”

Adam took a shaky breath. “Fuck.” He twisted his wrist from Ronan's grasp, but instead of letting go fully, he wrapped his fingers around Ronan's. “You don't want to hurt me. Fuck.” He let out a long breath. “You love me.”

It felt like Ronan's heart stopped and then plummeted to his feet. He didn't say anything. Not saying anything wasn't lying. Technically. 

“You love me.” Adam lay his head back and leaned into Ronan. “You love me and don't want to hurt me. You love me and you _never_ want to hurt me.”

“Please,” Ronan managed. “Please.” He wanted to ask him to stop, _stop saying it_ , just reject him already, but the words wouldn't come. “Please.”

Adam took a small breath. His hand was shaking. “I love you too.” 

Ronan whipped his head around, sure he'd misheard. “Wait, what?”

Adam was staring at the ceiling but he had a small, gentle smile on his face. He didn't look at Ronan when he said it again. “I love you. I have for a really long time. I just...words, man.” He shrugged. “But you never want to hurt me. You want to look after me. You understand me better than anyone I've ever met.” A light blush sat across his cheekbones. “You love me. Fuck.”

Ronan grinned. “Can I say it or are you just gonna keep saying it for me?”

Adam laughed, and the sound was so light, so carefree, Ronan wanted to bottle it and drink it, bathe in it and live in it. “I guess you can say it if you want.”

“Look at me, Parrish.” 

Adam turned his head slowly. The splatter of pink across his cheeks made Ronan want to kiss him. The smile still pulled at the edges of Adam's lips. “Spit it out, Lynch.”

“Adam, you are the most wonderful fuck I have ever met. Jesus Mary, I fucking love you. I really do.” The words were easy to say. For Ronan, they always had been. “I really fucking love you.”

A smile burst across Adam's face; pure joy and easy happiness. “Can I kiss you now?” 

“Fucking please.” 

Kissing Adam Parrish was like the first time he'd jumped from a plane; it was falling but knowing you had a parachute to keep you safe. It was driving too fast but knowing you were in control. It was thick tension loosening, somewhere deep inside him, that he hadn't known he was carrying. It was dropping his pack after a too long hike and feeling the relief of an empty back and freed muscles. Kissing Adam Parrish was coming home after too long away. Kissing Adam Parrish was all he ever wanted to do from now until forever. 

They broke apart, slowly. Resting their foreheads together and breathing each other in. Joy coursed through Ronan's veins and danced in his heartbeat. He gripped Adam's hand, grounding himself in the moment. 

“Oh.” 

“Fuck yeah.” 

“Come back to bed, you loser,” Adam said, laughter tracing the words. “You won't hurt me because I'll chase the nightmares away.”

“You gonna protect me, Parrish?”

“For as long as you let me, Lynch.” He pulled Ronan up with him, straight into another kiss. “For as long as you let me,” he repeated against Ronan's lips when they broke apart.

“I'm not dreaming, right?” Ronan was only half-joking. “This is actually happening?” 

Adam grinned and pulled him towards the stairs. “God, I hope so.”


	45. It is the life you live that matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long! My life got eaten up with health stuff and then nanowrimo started and I was doing that and I could not get this chapter right! I'm still unsure but I hope you like it!
> 
> Thank you SO much to everyone who has read this fic all the way to the end. To everyone who has commented, you have my heart. To all the kudoes and subscriptions and bookmarks, you have my kisses. Thank you for the support! I cannot believe this fic almost got 10000 hits! That is insane to me and the most people to ever read my work so thank you!!!
> 
> Hope you like the new chapter! Like it's just fluff, you guys. So much fluff.

_Three months together_

Ronan expected Adam to disappear into his head after the funeral. It still didn’t make it easier when Adam pulled back from him, disappearing for days at a time. Adam cleared out the trailer with his aunt, refusing to even allow Ronan to bring him food. It took Ronan turning up at his apartment in the middle of the night for Adam to admit he was struggling. Ronan directed him back to Persephone and directed him back to The Barns and directed him back into his arms. Adam finally came willingly and Ronan felt like he could breathe again. The fear of losing Adam before they'd even began had been a niggling fear since the first time Adam pulled away. 

Freeing him from the shadows felt like untangling a integrate knot. Ronan had always been good with knots. This knot just needed gentle words and softer touches. Long drives and quiet music. Warm nights and heated gasps. Slowly. Slowly. Slowly. The fog lifted.

Three months passed and Ronan was more sure of the relationship, more certain Adam wasn’t going anywhere. He’d gotten used to waking with Adam wrapped around him, enjoyed the simple domesticity of cooking his boyfriend dinner and watching movies with him. Ronan was happy and all he wanted was for Adam to feel the same way. Dating Adam Parrish was more than Ronan deserved, so he threw himself into it, made sure he became someone who deserved someone like Adam.

“Close your fucking eyes, Parrish. Stop trying to peek.” They were crossing the fields at the side of his house. The grass was soft mud under their feet after recent rain and the air smelt of dead leaves and muck. Adam's hand was hot in his and he flexed his fingers around it, tightening his hold. “We're almost there.”

Adam huffed out a sigh. “Just don't let me fall.”

“Insulting.” He carefully guided him around a gate. “Have I ever let you fall?”

“No, Lynch. Not once,” he replied with a smile on his voice. 

Ronan flushed red and was suddenly glad Adam’s eyes were closed. “Okay. Almost there, and stop. You can open your fucking eyes now.”

Adam blinked a few times and frowned. “It's a barn?”

Ronan dropped his hand and pulled the tiny bit of material hanging off the side of the barn. A small sign hung from the side. _Adam's fucking barn_ was scrawled across it in Ronan's messy handwriting. “It's your barn, Parrish.”

“I don't understand.”

Ronan's smile was pure glee. “C'mon the fuck and I'll show you.” He grabbed Adam's hand again for no real reason except he liked holding it, and he was _allowed_ to hold it, and pulled him inside. “So this is your workbench and up there is like an office and this is the chair I'll nap in while keeping you company.” Chainsaw cawed from the rafters. “She's already made a nest up there.”

Adam's mouth had dropped open. “I still don't understand.”

“Well, you fixed BMW.” He shrugged. “So I thought Adam wants to build stuff but he's got nowhere to built it and no one was using this fucking place so I renovated it.” 

Adam didn't answer. There was a hint of red across his cheeks and a smile considering forming on his lips. He took his hand back and wandered through the space. 

Ronan dropped down into the soft grey couch he'd bought for this exact purpose and watched Adam process. It was quickly becoming one of his favourite hobbies. Adam rubbed a hand along the workbench that took up the whole left side of the space. Ronan had bought books and circuit boards, a soldering iron and screws. He didn't know what Adam would need so he guessed. Pale light lit streams through the air, rinsing the space in gold. Dust danced in the light. Adam’s sneakers squeaked on the hardwood floors. The whole place smelled like sawdust and hay. Adam glanced at him for a second before walking up the stairs just past the workbench. The office was upstairs on the mezzanine. He heard Adam walk above him.

Chainsaw landed on his arm and he petted her softly. “The Mac is old,” he shouted up, knowing Adam would refuse it otherwise. “Matthew got a new one, said it was grand to put it out here.”

Adam huffed out a laugh. 

Ronan closed his eyes and listened to his muffled footsteps. The stairs creaked as he came back down. Ronan didn’t open his eyes. Adam sat in his lap and lay his head in the crook of Ronan’s neck. He wrapped his arms around Adam loosely but he still didn’t open his eyes. “You like it?”

Adam pressed a soft kiss into his neck. 

Ronan took that as a yes. “You think you could build me a robot?”

Adam's laugh heated his skin. “I'll build you anything you want, Lynch.” He kissed his neck again. “Thank you for this.”

“It's only fair.”

“I love you too.”

_Six months together_

Adam shot him a cold look and walked from the kitchen. He didn't slam the door. Just shut it gently behind him. The strength left Ronan's body and he leaned against the counter. He wasn't even sure what had started the fight; something stupid about paying for dinner and suddenly they're roaring at each other about the fact that Adam was refusing to move into The Barns despite the fact _he spent every fucking night there_. 

Huffing in a breathe, Ronan followed Adam out onto the porch. He sat down on the stairs beside him, but left space like Adam had asked him to do in the past. Adam was leaning his head against a wooden beam, legs curled into his chest. He was staring at the ground and his face was carefully blank. Ronan hated that face. He meant Adam was lost somewhere not kind. 

They sat in silence staring out at the empty night for a few minutes. 

Ronan broke the silence when he couldn’t bare the look on Adam’s face any longer.“I feel frustrated that you don't want to move in officially because it makes me feel like you don't trust me. I feel scared as well.” He took a breath before continuing. He'd learned the tactics off Calla after one fight stopped them talking for two weeks. Both of them had agreed it was the best way for them to communicate when they were fighting. Ronan had laughed after the conversation, giddy about _how fucking mature we are, Jesus Mary, my mother would be proud_. “I feel scared because you're leaving soon to start your new job and I'm afraid you won't come back to me if you don't have a permanent home. I feel like The Barns is only home now when you're here.”

Adam had turned to watch him when he started talking like they’d agreed. He listened and didn’t try to interrupt, and when Ronan stopped talking, he began,“I feel scared that if I take your help, and become reliant on it, I'll forget what it is to stand on my own two feet.” He took a shuddering breath, looking away from Ronan. He watched a cow chewing grass for a few minutes. “I feel worried that I'm not able to be part of a family and one day you'll realise that.” Ronan kept watching him and waited. Adam was clearly working up to something big, was chewing his lip and scratching his jaw mechanically. “I feel scared-” he paused and took a shuddering breath. “-because I love you so much and I love it here so much and I'm so scared one day it'll all be gone.”

Ronan tried very hard not to smile. Anytime Adam admitted he loved him felt like a gift Ronan didn’t deserve. He didn’t need time to form his words like Adam had. Ronan was brought up in a family who knew love. “Adam, I feel like one day I'm going to marry you, and then half of this will be yours anyway.”

Adam sucked in a startled breath beside him. “You can't just say shit like that, Ronan.”

“Ah ah ah,” Ronan answered with a smirk. “Only use phrases beginning with _I feel_. Sentences starting with _you_ make me feel attacked.”

Adam laughed. “I feel like you can't just say shit like that.”

“I feel like it's the truth.”

Adam examined him for a few seconds. “I'm going to kiss you now.”

He moved his stuff into the next day. 

_Nine months together_

“Thank you for doing this for us. Ais is going to kill me if I don’t take her on a night out for our anniversary. Especially with the new baby on the way.” Declan ran a tired hand down his face. “You’d swear it was my fault she’s pregnant again.”

“Sort of is, Dec,” Ronan responded with a smirk. “Right, Opal? Isn’t it all daddy’s fault?” Opel was cradled into his hip, smacking her hand against his face.

Opal smiled at him and giggled at the face he made.

“Proof,” Ronan said with a grin of triumphant. "Right, Adam?"

Adam, who was currently ignoring the things his heart was doing as he watched Ronan play with his niece, just rolled his eyes.

Declan ignored Ronan as well and spoke to Adam instead. “All the instructions are on the fridge and we’ll be back by like twelve at the latest. You’re sure this is okay?”

“No problem,” Adam answered and smiled. “Seriously, go enjoy your night.”

“I feel like I’m leaving you with two children,” Declan responded, watching as Ronan lifted Opal up as high as the ceiling and then pretended to drop her, much to Opals delight.

Adam laughed. “Yeah but I’m used to him.”

“Curse word to you both,” Ronan mumbled, face buried in Opal’s belly as he blew raspberries. It'd been agreed he wouldn't curse around her while she was still young to get the practice in. “C’mon Opal, we deserve better than this. Let’s go find some toys.” Ronan knelt down and placed Opal on the floor, lying down with her and making faces until she giggled.

“We’ve got this Declan. Honestly. Go have fun.” Adam guided him out of the house to the car. Ais was already sitting there, playing on her phone. “We’ve got this,” he promised one last time before he closed the door. 

Three hours later and it was clear they did not have it. Opal had not stopped crying for over thirty minutes. Adam’s head was pounding and even Ronan, with his endless patience for his niece, was starting to look frazzled. He paced the room, jiggling her in his arms and making clicking noises with his tongue. Declan’s townhouse was big and modern, coloured in lots of greys and the odd splash of colour. The floor was covered in toys Ronan was maneuvering around. It was not The Barns but it screamed of home. Adam had been here at least one a month since Opal had been born. this was the first time though, they'd kept Opal for longer than an hour.

Adam slumped back on the couch. “I think it’s her naptime. Maybe if we just put her down she’ll tire herself out.”

“But she’s crying.” Ronan looked halfway to tears himself. “I thought we’d be better at this.”

“Takes practice,” Adam muttered. “Be easier with our own kids.”

Ronan stopped pacing. Even Opal stopped crying. They both looked at Adam. 

He studiously looked at the TV.

“Parrish, did you just say something about _our children_?” Ronan’s voice was pure caramel. “As in _our family_ in the future?”

“Dunno, maybe. Whatever.”

Since Opal hadn’t started crying again, Ronan came and sat down beside Adam. He sat flush with Adam's body, long legs stretching alongside Adam’s and shoulder just a bit higher. Adam was always so aware of how warm Ronan was, how safe he felt when Ronan was close. He took Opal when Ronan handed her to him, resting her on his stomach and making funny faces. She giggled and tried to smack his face. He kissed the palm of her hand and she giggled again. He was horribly aware of Ronan’s eyes on him. 

“Say something,” Adam muttered, terrified he had gone too far, terrified he'd shown Ronan just how much he meant to him. 

“Well, would we adopt or get a surrogate?” He laughed a happy sound. “Bet if we asked really nice, Ais would give us the new baby.”

Adam grinned and the tension fell from his shoulders like rainwater. “What if...What if I’m bad at it?” He never took his eyes off Opal. Just made faces and allowed her to hit his face again and again. It was making her happy and laughter was more pleasant than constant tears. “What if I’m like my dad?”

Ronan let out a shuddering breath. He did this a lot when Adam mentioned his past. Adam knew he was calming the pulsing anger beneath his skin. No one hated Adam’s dad more than Adam, but Ronan came a very close second. No one had ever cared about him as much as Ronan did, enough to be angry about past hurts. “There is no way you’re going to turn out like your dad but I understand why you’d be afraid you would, so when the time comes, and we get serious about kids, we’ll go to all the parenting classes and therapy, and we’ll research schools, and we’ll learn as much as we can, and it’ll be okay because it’ll be me and you.”

Adam leaned over and kissed Ronan softly. “So, you’re not freaked out I mentioned kids?”

Ronan gave him a look that said he thought he was very stupid for such a smart person. Ronan used this look a lot on Adam. He smirked suddenly. “I mentioned marriage first so I guess we’re even.”

Adam laughed and Opal laughed too. “Let's get this one to bed.”

_One year together_

It was Friday evening and Ronan was sitting on the porch waiting for the headlights of Adam’s car to appear around the bend of the driveway. He’d only left on Monday morning but Ronan missed him like an itch that wouldn’t let up. It wasn't that he didn't have enough to be busy with; he was setting up a camp for trouble teenages, a place for them to get their lives back on track. It was part bootcamp, part farmwork and part nature retreat. It'd just gotten funding and was looking into persuading the ladies of 300 Fox Way to give classes on coping mechanisms. He was ninety percent sure they were going to say yes. When Blue and Gansey got back from Asia, Blue was going to help him run it. He'd already rounded up some of his old army friends to work as camp instructors. Construction had just begun on turning some of the barns into sleeping quarters and classrooms.

So it wasn't that Ronan wasn't busy. It was just missing Adam was something he seemed to put on each morning as he got dressed. It wasn't a painful ache. Not like missing Noah was. It was more bittersweet. Something that reminded him how good his life had gotten in the last two years. It wasn't even like they never talked. They were on the phone every night, and Ronan sent him an embarrassing amount of memes during the day, but it wasn’t the same. Not at all. He missed his warm body in the bed and his chatter over dinner. He missed how he complained about Ronan's mess and how he moaned about how good Ronan's food was compared to his own.

The driveway lit up white and Ronan jumped up, not even caring he how embarrassingly in love he was. Adam's car was nice, if a little too boring for Ronan's tastes. It drove soft and safe and got Adam home each week and that was all Ronan actually cared about. Adam stepped from it in a dark suit and loose blue tie, hair messy and top button undone. Ronan swallowed down the _want_ that pummeled him. He leaned against the car, arms crossing his arms and watched him approach with a smirk.

“You don’t have to wait every time,” Adam whispered as Ronan invaded his personal space and leaned into his lips. 

He didn't bother to answer. Just stole the kiss he'd been thinking about since the last one. Kissing Adam always felt like the first time and like the last time, like it was all he ever wanted to be doing and too much at once. Love burst in his chest and Ronan pulled away, leaning into Adam's forehead. If he died kissing Adam Parrish, he’d die a happy man. “How’d it go?”

“I won.”

Ronan grinned and kissed him again. “Fuck off.”

Adam nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips. “One day a week to work on my project." 

"I knew you could do it." He took Adam's hand and started leading him to the house. It was cold out and Ronan was in his bare feet.

"They said I can do it from home.”

“Fuck off.” Ronan stopped walked and Adam crashed into him. "Fuck off," he said again, turning slowly.

The smile splitting Adam's face make Ronan's heart ache in the best possible way. “Which means I’ll be here an extra day a week.”

“Fuck off.”

“Did I break you, Lynch?”

“You might have, Parrish.” He pulled him back into a kiss. “You fucking might have.”

After, they lay by the fire and smiled stupidly at each other. Ronan was running his fingers up Adam's bare back and enjoying the appreciative noises Adam was making. They'd made a nest of blankets, throwing them on the floor in a the hurry to reacquaint themselves with each others body. Ronan was watching how the fire lit up Adam’s skin in shades of orange and red. Grabbing a piece of cold pizza off the coffee table, he took a bite and fed Adam some. He was reviewing the contract his company had given him after the contest. 

“Okay, so it says here, they own the rights to the invention since I’ll be using their equipment to build it but I will receive all credit and twenty percent of the profits.” The competition had been run throughout the R&D department of the multinational company Adam worked at. There was a prize of two thousand dollars and a whole year to spend developing an invention with the support of the company. “I think that’s fair though, right? I couldn’t do this alone.”

“You could,” Ronan answered with a smirk. “But this gives you more expertise, and a greater reach, and I think that's the point right? Help as many kids as possible?”

“Exactly.” He’d called it _The Shadow Bracelet_ and it allowed kids to ask for help when they needed it most. A panic alarm for children with no protection. “I’m signing it.”

“Good.” Ronan kissed a freckle on Adam’s back. “I’ll get the dessert and we can celebrate some more.”

Ronan tried to ignore the shaking in his hands as he grabbed the ring from a drawer in the kitchen. He'd bought it months ago, but Declan had told him to wait, to get used to the relationship first. Calla had agreed. They'd both given him the all clear when he told them he was ready. It was nice to have their support, to know he wasn't rushing into it or make a self-destructive decision. He was making less and less of them every day. He loaded two plates full of homemade cookies and ice cream, managing to walk back into the room without spilling anything despite his suddenly weak knees. He didn’t think his heart was meant to beat this fast. “Hey Adam, put that down for a second, would ya?”

Adam threw the contract over to the coffee table and looked up expectantly. “What’s up?”

“Shit.” Ronan put the plates down and hid the ring under one. “Okay, shit. Fuck. Okay.” He took a shaking breath and ignored the amusement on Adam’s face. “You know you mean the fucking world to me, and everything you do is stupidly amazing, and I fucking love you and your stupid brain, and drive, and your fucking ambition, and the fact one days you’re going to make us like fucking quadrillionaires.”

“Knew you were only dating me for my money, Lynch.”

“Shut up for a second. Shit no, I didn’t mean that. Jesus Mary. I’ve been practicing this speech all week.” He rubbed a trembling hand down his face. “Adam, I love you. Will you mar…”

“No, no wait.” Adam clamped a hand over Ronan’s mouth and reached for his trousers. “No way you are beating me to this.” Adam pulled out a small box. 

Ronan laughed against his palm and then licked it. When Adam had pulled his hand back with a look of feigned disgust, Ronan pulled out his own box and grinned. “At the same time?”  


Adam nodded and held up his fingers, mouthing _one two three_.

“Will you marry me?”


End file.
